IWAFY: Before the Forest
by LadybugXPrincess
Summary: (Three mini prequels taking place before the events of my crossover "I Will Always Find You") An unwitting prince falls victim to his stepfather's long-awaited revenge. A shape-shifter and a huntsman tackle a series of monster attacks. A neglected princess will go to incredible lengths to save her sister from a dragon.
1. The Silver Lining: If Wishes Were Horses

**THE SILVER LINING**

 _ **Chapter 1:**_

 _ **If Wishes Were Horses**_

 _Once upon a time, a king was killed in battle by the wickedest sorcerer who ever lived._

 _But though the sorcerer was victorious, he mysteriously vanished without a trace._

 _Many wondered as to the cause._

 _Had the sorcerer been grievously wounded?_

 _And if so, did he succumb to his wounds, or was he waiting in the shadows, gathering his strength?_

 _No one would know for years to come._

 _And during that time, the king's wife and son struggled to move on with their dreary lives._

 _Then, one regular summer day – a year after the king's death – a promising future appeared on the horizon..._

* * *

"Look, Mother!" Prince Adrien of Agreste cheered from atop his horse. "I did it!"

Queen Vivienne's overly-shocked expression was feigned, of course, but it still made her son beam with pride.

"Goodness, Adrien – you're as tall as a giant!" the little boy's mother exclaimed. "How on earth are you going to fit through the castle doors now?"

Adrien laughed through his teeth, his bright green eyes sparkling with mischief. They were the same colour as his mother's, and he was glad to finally see hers gleaming with happiness again.

The queen had not been the same since Adrien's father, King Gabriel, had died. Her smiles were rare, her eyes were usually vacant, and she found little joy in anything save for her only child. Adrien was the last thing Vivienne had left of Gabriel. She always managed to find time for him, no matter how short.

Adrien's young brown stallion gave a snort and tugged at the reins, almost pulling the little prince out of the saddle.

His mother wiped off her smile immediately. "Careful, dear," she urged. "Remember what I always told you about riding."

"The slightest fumble may make you tumble," Adrien recited with a hint of boredom.

The queen's smile returned. "That's my boy. Now sit tight and wait. Marco, help me with the muzzle please." She beckoned to one of the three stable-hands, who eagerly scampered up to assist her.

Adrien bounced in his saddle, making his horse groan irritably. He fiddled with his blue riding jacket and matching boots, but after a few seconds he got bored.

"Can we go up to Firefly Hill this time?" the prince pleaded, puffing out his cheeks for emphasis. "We could watch the sunset, and have a picnic, and count the number of birds, and..."

His hope faltered when Vivienne shook her head sadly. "Not today, sweetie. I have to be back at the castle in an hour. Council meeting." She added that last part with a sarcastic grumble. "The queen _loves_ her council meetings."

Adrien raised his head to the stable roof. "Aww!" he groaned before looking away with an irritated huff. "We never get to go anywhere fun anymore."

"Adrien," his mother said in that serious tone that always made the boy cringe. "That's not true. It's just..." She sighed, and her long golden hair fell past her face. "The kingdom needs me now more than ever. Without your father, the other nobles are looking to me to help amend their problems."

The prince turned to her, still not satisfied. "Why can't they just solve their own problems?" he enquired flatly. "You're the queen! I thought queens could do whatever they want?"

To his surprise, Vivienne chuckled. "I thought so too when I was your age," she mused as she gave her black mare a gentle pat on the neck. "But then I got older, and I realized that a ruler must put the needs of her people before herself." The queen gave her son a thoughtful glance. "You'll understand that someday, Adrien, when you become king."

The words left Adrien's mouth before he could hold them back: "I don't want to be king – not like Father."

Vivienne blinked at him, and suddenly the young prince wanted to shrink down to the size of a walnut.

Adrien knew how deep of a mark his father's death had left on his mother. He couldn't say the same for himself, however.

Gabriel had hardly spent time with his son at all. Whenever he did, he always had his personal guards with them at all times, watching with emotionless eyes. It had always made Adrien feel uncomfortable, more so when Gabriel acted more like a king than a father towards his son:

 _Stop daydreaming during your studies. Stop causing trouble for my staff. Stop playing around with that ridiculous cat. Stop acting like a child. Stop, stop, stop..._

Adrien honestly couldn't explain why his father had bothered with him at all, if all the boy ever did was become a nuisance to him. Maybe Gabriel had thought he could tame the prince's wild spirit with his consistent lecturing.

There were times when hours spent with the king were bearable, but only when Adrien's mother was around. She had a way of warming her husband's cold demeanour; softening his hardened tone.

Now Adrien was ten, his father was dead... and the only person whose spirit had been snuffed out was Queen Vivienne's.

Lady Nathalie, Adrien's governess, had once mentioned to him that a bond between lovers was like a delicate flower. Without sunshine and water to sustain it, the flower would wilt away until there was nothing left. In this case, without her husband's love and companionship, Vivienne was slowly transforming into something shrivelled and lifeless.

It sounded so absurd to Adrien. Love was just an emotion; something you couldn't touch or taste or see. How could a mere feeling possibly sustain someone? The little prince wasn't sure he would ever find out.

But now, staring uncomfortably into his mother's eyes – _his_ eyes – Adrien wished he hadn't said anything.

Thankfully, Queen Vivienne didn't scold or scowl at her son. Instead, she walked over to him and gave his little hand a soft squeeze.

"You _will_ be king someday, Adrien," she explained in a firm but calm tone, like the sound of a rushing waterfall. "And you will be _your own_ kind of king – one who is brave, kind, smart... and who will love everyone and everything with all his heart."

The prince almost grinned. "I wish I can see the future like you can," he said. It was a joke, of course.

His mother smiled. "I don't need to see the future to know what kind of a man you'll grow up to be, my love." She reached up and tucked a tuff of her son's golden hair behind his ear. "And besides, the only magic you and I will ever need in this world... is love."

There it was again – that weird explanation about that weird, unexplainable feeling. "Love?" Adrien asked, his nose scrunching.

Vivienne nodded. "True love is the most powerful magic of all, Adrien," she said. "It can overcome anything. Remember that."

Adrien's mind was all muddled now. So love was _magical_ too? _But if it can overcome anything_ , the prince thought, _why is Father dead?_

"I... I'll try, Mother," Adrien finally said. "But I don't really –"

His remark was cut short when the brown stallion he was riding suddenly gave a terrified whinny and started pounding his fore-hooves into the straw-ridden dirt.

Adrien let out a cry and unconsciously yanked hard on the reins. At the same time, the queen tried to reach for the bit in the horse's mouth to steady it.

Both plans didn't work. And before the queen could grab her son, the beast kicked off at a charging speed.

Adrien screamed as he felt himself flying out of the stables and down the hill.

He heard his mother calling for him, but her voice faded away into the roar of thundering hooves.

Adrien panicked and pulled the reins harder, but the stallion would not obey him.

All the while, the prince jerked heavily in the saddle, which made his teeth clamp down hard every time. One of the stirrups came loose and started banging against the horse's middle. This, in turn, made the beast go faster, and _that_ , in turn, made Adrien slide further out of his saddle.

The prince's heart was almost as deafening as the charging horse. Fear exploded in his gut. His throat burned as he let out a blood-curdling scream, " _Help! Somebody help me! I can't stop! HELP!_ "

Adrien fell forward against the horse's neck, struggling to hold on for dear life. But his other foot was slipping, and so were his fingers. He could almost feel the ground drawing closer. Adrien started crying now – crying for his mother, his father... for _anyone_ to help him.

"Hang on, son!" a deep, booming voice called out to him from somewhere.

 _Father?_

 _Oh god, I'm going to die!_

At that precise moment, the little prince felt a strong hand grasp the back part of his jacket.

Then Adrien was flying again... but up instead of forward.

He flew right out of his saddle... and into another saddle!

Adrien gasped. His vision was blurry. He was overwhelmed with dizziness and nausea, and for a moment he couldn't feel his legs.

Then, he was slowing down.

The deep voice spoke again, more softly this time: "Deep breaths, lad."

Adrien unconsciously did as he was told. Breathe in, breathe out, in, out...

"That's it. It's all right. You're safe now. It's over."

Little by little, the prince's head cleared and his eyes refocused. He realized where he was now.

He was being carried off the horse and seated carefully on the soft grass. Then large, gloved hands were patting his shoulders, brushing his wind-blown hair, and rubbing soothing circles on his back.

 _I'm alive. I'm off the horse. I'm alive._

Adrien had never felt so safe in his entire life.

He looked up to see who his heroic rescuer was... and his mouth fell open further.

The man was undoubtedly human, but he had no hair on his head. The entirety of it was covered in some kind of sleek, silvery substance that Adrien couldn't name. It wasn't fabric, but it wasn't liquid or metal either. The features on his gleaming face were sharp and tight, making it look like a grinning skull.

But his pale, blue eyes were kind and welcoming. It was like looking into a frozen lake, but the ice was unbreakable. It would not let Adrien fall in.

"... you hurt?"

The little prince blinked and squeaked, "Uhh?"

"Are you hurt, son?" the man asked again with heartfelt concern. "Is anything broken?"

"I... I... N-N-No..." Adrien stammered, barely recognizing his own voice. "I... You..." The boy's face melted into astonishment. "You saved my life!"

The silver-faced stranger smiled with relief. "That's just the nerves talking," he said with a throaty chuckle. He stood up and extended a hand to the boy. "Come now – let's get you back on your feet."

Adrien graciously took the man's hand and heaved himself back up. Suddenly, he felt light-headed again and he started swaying in his spot.

"Whoa, easy there, boy!" The man immediately had his arms out to support Adrien. "Are you sure you're all right? Did you hit your head or anything?"

Adrien took a few deep breaths before responding, "No, sir. I'm fine. But..." He stiffened at the sight of the man's massive, grey stallion.

 _I could have fallen off. I could have... I could have..._

The little prince felt more tears coming. He had tried to turn this day into a good one, for his mother's sake. Now he wished he had never set one foot in that stable.

"I'm never going to ride again," Adrien whimpered.

The man stared at him quietly. Then he snorted with a laugh and said, "Nonsense."

Adrien looked up at the stranger, once again losing himself in those icy-blue eyes.

His father had blue eyes, but they were darker, like an angry storm at sea.

 _This_ was a gentler kind of blue, like the open sky after a winter snowfall.

"You shouldn't swear off something you love doing just because you're scared," the man continued, kneeling down so that he and the prince were eye-to-eye. "The only way to get over your fear is to _face_ it; to get back up on that horse as soon as possible." He patted Adrien's shoulder again. "Never stop trying, and you'll discover just how brave you truly are."

The prince blinked at him with star-struck eyes.

No man had ever spoken to him with such warm, encouraging words before. Not even his father.

But now, Adrien felt something like hope sparkle inside his chest.

He finally found the strength to smile again. "Thank you..." he breathed to the stranger. "Thank you... um... Mister...?"

The man smiled and bowed his head. "Reginald," he replied. "And who might you be, my brave young rider?"

Remembering his royal courtesies, Adrien bowed his own head in return. Then he replied, "Adrien. My name is Adrien."

The silver-masked man called Reginald was smiling again, only this time it was much deeper than before, as if he knew all along what the prince's name was.

"Well, then, Sir Adrien," he said. "I wish I could stay, but I must return home at once. I can see your fellow riders coming this way. You'll be in good hands now. Take care, and remember to get back in that saddle."

Adrien merely smiled at the man who saved his life, and watched as Reginald climbed back onto his grey horse, winked down at the boy, and then trotted off down the valley.

The little prince watched him go the whole time.

It wasn't until he heard hoof beats from behind him when he finally turned.

Four horses grounded to a halt, but only one of the riders dismounted.

"Adrien!" Queen Vivienne cried as she ran over, fell to her knees and embraced her little boy ever-so-tightly.

The little prince wrapped his arms around her, and once again he felt the satisfaction of security warming his ice-cold veins.

"Mother..." Adrien sighed into the queen's hair, savouring the scent of wildflowers and leather.

"Oh, my baby! My treasure, my sweet boy...!" Vivienne pulled away and cupped her son's face with her hands. "Are you all right? What happened? How did you escape?"

Adrien almost laughed at how hastily his mother was talking. "He saved me, Mother," he said.

The queen blinked. "Who did, dear?" she asked more gently.

"The man in the silver mask! He pulled me right off my horse and he... he saved me!"

Vivienne glanced over her son's shoulder. Her green eyes were alit with relief and interest. "That rider over there?" she asked, pointing out.

Adrien turned around to see his rescuer slowly shrinking into the horizon, and he nodded with pride. "Yes. His name is Reginald."

And Adrien knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would never forget that name for as long as he lived.

* * *

 **MB: Chilling, isn't it?**

 **One thing I love about prequels is the subtle hints and nudges towards later stories in the series. If you've read "IWAFY" already, I bet you were thinking, "No, Adrien! It's a trick!" Well, too bad. Mwahahaha!**

 **I used the _Once Upon a Time_ Season 1 episode "The Stable Boy" as inspiration for this chapter. I will also be using scenes/themes/elements from the episodes "Fruit of the Poisonous Tree" and "The Heart is a Lonely Hunter" in later chapters.**

 **I do not own _Once Upon a Time_ or the episodes, or _Miraculous_.**

 **Just to confirm, this is the first of three mini prequels to my first _Miraculous_ / _Once Upon a Time_ crossover "I Will Always Find You". Each of them will have six chapters, some longer than others. But I hope you all enjoy them all the same!**


	2. The Silver Lining: Forbidden Fruit

**THE SILVER LINING**

 _ **Chapter 2:**_

 _ **Forbidden Fruit**_

 _The news of young Prince Adrien's rescue did not go unheard of throughout the kingdom._

 _While it is sad to say this, it is nevertheless prudent to say that Reginald's seemingly-selfless act laid the groundwork for Agreste's imminent downfall._

 _And its queen – determined to seek out the silver-masked rider who had saved her son – unwittingly led the wolf into her den..._

* * *

He was sitting at his desk, looking through a notice about the inspection of the local flour mill, when someone came rushing breathlessly into his study.

Reginald didn't need look up from his papers to know who had entered. Of all the servants at his small estate, only one of them ever approached him directly.

"Yes, Nooroo?" he asked, his tone implying how much he was hoping for good news.

"My... My master..." his personal manservant huffed. "We... We have a visitor!"

This gave Reginald cause to look up.

Nooroo was a thin boy of a man – clean-shaven and gangly with a rounded head. His short tufts of hair were bright lavender, as were his glowing, bulbous eyes. Such colourful characteristics were common from those of Chengise descent. Nooroo's parents had originated from the lonely islands that had once been its own empire before it merged with the kingdom of Dupain many years ago.

Reginald peered inquisitively at his manservant, searching for answers. "I don't recall sending out any invites, nor was I aware of any messages about an upcoming guest. Who is it?"

Nooroo almost keeled over with excitement as he responded, "The queen, my master!"

Now the silver-masked lord was standing, the parchments on his desk forgotten. Reginald's eyes widened with intrigue. "The queen?" He tried to sound surprised. "The Queen of Agreste has come to my house? Whatever for?"

"You don't know, my lord?" Nooroo drew closer and explained, "The little boy on the horse you rescued last week? He was _the queen's son_!"

Reginald tried not to sneer, and instead offered Nooroo a look of perplexed delight.

"And now Her Majesty and the prince have requested an audience with you!" the purple-eyed manservant practically squealed.

It was almost too good to be true. Then again, Reginald had made it easy for the queen to track him down. For one thing, not every nobleman in the kingdom wore a silver mask day and night.

Reginald pointed sharply to the door of the study. "Well, what are you waiting for, Nooroo? Go down and greet Their Highnesses and tell them I will be down in a moment."

"Yes, my master, right away!" Nooroo bowed hastily and sprang towards the door, his cape of deep-purple velvet blowing behind him like the wings of a butterfly.

Once the bumbling fool was gone, Reginald finally let his smugness shine on his face. He picked up his jewelled cane and strode out of the room.

As he made his way down the hall towards his bedchamber, some of the candelabras lining the walls burned brighter, the flames stretching high with exhilaration.

Reginald frowned and clenched his fingers, and the candle lights returned to their normal size.

 _I'll have to be more careful with that from now on_ , he thought as he brushed a gentle hand over his naval, where a beautiful, amethyst brooch sat. _Can't ruin the surprise just yet, now can we?_

* * *

The moment Reginald stepped out into the main hall in his grey and purple uniform, several pairs of eyes fell upon him.

The most important of which were the eyes of the queen and her little boy, both an astonishingly-clear green.

 _Hmm... The boy looks more like the mother than the father_ , Reginald thought as he approached the royal entourage with the appropriate posture of a lord. _All the better. The last thing I need is another Gabriel._

Prince Adrien was now wearing a dashing green uniform with accents of gold. His glistening mop of golden hair had been combed cleanly to the side – a far more appealing sight than it had been when Adrien had been riding that horse. All together, the little prince reminded Reginald of a toy soldier. It was exceedingly – and disgustingly – adorable.

The queen, on the other hand...

One look at her, and Reginald finally understood why the common-folk referred to her as the "fairest one of all".

Hair of sunshine that was partially done up in a braided crown while the rest fell about her shoulders. An elegant face that gleamed like a pearl. A gown of sparkling fuchsia that swished around the queen when she turned to face the handsome lord in front of her. Bright pink lips that were so thin, yet they rose up into a lovely bow of a smile.

At last, after ten years of plotting and warring and deceiving, Lord Reginald had finally come face-to-face with the daughter of King Leopold.

The prize of Gabriel's betrayal; the source of Reginald's shattered heart.

"Is this him?" the queen asked her son, though she never took her eyes off of Reginald.

Adrien nodded. "Yes, Mother – this is the rider who saved me! He even has the mask and everything!"

"Your Highness, manners," a tall, dark-haired crane of a woman murmured to the prince.

"Sorry, Nat." Adrien bowed to Reginald and said, "Reginald, I'd like you to meet my mother, Queen Vivienne."

The nobleman offered a deep smile and bowed low at the waist.

Until Her Majesty raised a delicate hand and said, "Please, don't. It is _I_ who should bow to you."

Reginald slowly straightened, forcing his face to soften with astonishment.

And inside, he fought the urge to vomit.

He wanted so much to take that pretty little hand of hers, pull her forward, and drive his own hand through her heart so he could crush it to dust, just like he did her husband. He wanted so much to force Gabriel's son to watch it all while begging like an infant.

Sadly, he could not twist a finger on the queen, or lay even a scratch on the prince. This was Reginald's curse, and now he had to play a different game in order to quench his thirst for revenge. _Step by step_ , he reminded himself, _like pieces on a chessboard._

Vivienne's eyes sparkled at him with gratitude. "You saved my dear son from that terrifying accident," she said, "and now I owe you a debt that I can never repay. It is... _truly_ an honour to meet you, Lord Reginald." And with that, she sank into a deep curtsy.

Adrien, the woman he called "Nat", and the rest of the queen's companions followed suit.

Reginald played the part of the grateful, flabbergasted host very carefully. "I... Thank you, Your Majesty. And... Well, I must protest that the honour is mine." He dipped his head again, smiling at Adrien. "I just... Had I only known that it was our very own prince, I..." He cleared his throat and pretended to rethink his next words. "Forgive me. I'm just grateful that he is all right."

"As am I," the queen said, stroking her son's head. "But nevertheless, such a heroic deed must not go unrewarded. Tell me: what gift might a nobleman of your stature ask of your queen?"

Reginald immediately shook his head. "You are most courteous, Your Majesty, but... any amount of gold you could possibly give me would be a waste."

"Oh?" Vivienne raised a sharp eyebrow, and then smiled. "Then perhaps something more rewarding than gold. Adrien tells me you have much wisdom and kindness, and such virtues are never a waste in my court. Lord Reginald, how would you like to have a seat on my Royal Council?"

 _Now_ he was getting somewhere. "Your... Your Majesty, I..."

"Please say yes!" Adrien urged, those wide green eyes of his enlarging further. "You'll love the castle! And you can teach me how to ride better! Please say that you'll come!"

The crane-woman behind him rolled her eyes to the ceiling with a giddy sigh.

"He's right, you know," Vivienne said, giving Reginald an inviting look. "You would be one of my closest advisors, and your influence over this part of the kingdom will contribute greatly to our council. It's your decision, of course, but I must insist that you come with us." She placed a hand on her son's shoulder. "Adrien seems very fond of you, and it would be a shame to not have someone he can look up to while he is still so young."

Once again, the prince nodded eagerly, his little mouth bearing his teeth – some of which were missing – in a joyous, pleading grin.

 _A seat on the council,_ and _a chance to get close to Gabriel's son and heir?_ Reginald almost laughed. _This is too perfect._

And with those thoughts in mind, the silver-faced nobleman scooped up Queen Vivienne's hand and kissed it gently. "In _that_ case, Your Majesty, I happily accept your offer."

The beaming smile on the queen's face, along with the delightful cheers of her little boy, only made that dark hole in Reginald's chest purr with sadistic pleasure.

* * *

Summer wilted into autumn.

There was not one moment in that time period when Adrien didn't enjoy Reginald's company.

Aside from the prince's private lessons and his hours spent playing with his best friend and constant companion Nino, Adrien would often wonder around the castle looking for Reginald.

If he wasn't at a council meeting or off dealing with internal crises in the kingdom, the nobleman would take a momentary reprieve from his duties just to spend quality time with the little prince.

Reginald would fascinate Adrien with stories of all things magical and mysterious, and the boy would listen each time with quiet, curious intent.

He taught Adrien how to properly ready and mount his horse. If the weather was nice, they would take a short trip on horseback to visit the neighbouring villages.

At one time, Reginald suggested to Queen Vivienne that her son start learning fencing and swordplay as early as possible. It took some time for her to come around, but eventually she conceded that it was the best thing for her son and heir. So Adrien finally began his training, but he decided to use a quarterstaff just to keep his mother from worrying too much.

Suffice it to say, Adrien grew fonder of Reginald with every passing day.

And the happier the little prince was, the more the queen noticed.

It wasn't long before she realized that this Lord Reginald – this mysterious, masked man – was becoming something like a father to Adrien. The boy consistently looked to him for guidance and support, and was never afraid to speak anything on his mind. During one conversation, Vivienne overheard the two of them laughing, and the very sound of it made her heart flutter so strangely.

She hadn't felt like that since... well, since her dear husband had been killed by that wicked sorcerer, Lord Hawkmoth. Vivienne remembered how dreadful she had been over a year ago, when the royal messenger delivered the news that had broken her heart.

No one knew what had happened to the evil wizard after he had slain Gabriel during that fateful battle on Storm's Hill. But Vivienne knew from experience that when it came to Hawkmoth, there was no telling what had happened. Ever since Adrien had been born, Hawkmoth made it his life's work to eliminate the royal family of Agreste if it was the last thing he ever did. Despite the other nobles confirming that the sorcerer was long gone, Vivienne could not shake the feeling that someone as determined and unwavering as Hawkmoth would flee like a coward so easily.

Since then, all the queen ever wanted was for Adrien to be safe and happy.

And now, just when she thought she would sink into the abyss of her lonely sorrow, Vivienne felt warm and whole again.

Maybe... Maybe Adrien wasn't the _only_ person Reginald had rescued.

The queen finally decided to come clean about her feelings one blissfully-calm afternoon, when the weather was just teetering on the edge of cold.

Vivienne took Reginald's arm and led him into her favourite part of the castle courtyard: the apple orchard. At this time of year, the leaves that hadn't fallen danced and shimmered like ruby and copper in the wind. Fat apples dragged the half-naked branches downward until they nearly touched the ground.

As they approached the central tree of the orchard, Vivienne broke the casual conversation with a heartfelt decree: "My Adrien thinks the world of you, Reginald. And so do I."

She couldn't tell if he was blushing because of that mask, but her companion looked away bashfully. "Your Majesty is too kind," Reginald said.

"Please, I insist that you address me as "Vivienne"." The queen grasped his hand tightly and turned to face him. The wind tugged at her hair and blew it about in her eyes, but it didn't bother her one bit. "You are my friend as well as my wisest counsellor... but I must ask you this," Vivienne said earnestly. "What do you think of my son? And please, be just as open with me as you are with him."

Reginald blinked a few times before he glanced away, deep in thought. For a moment, it looked like he was struggling with his words. _Is he being shy?_ The idea almost made Vivienne smile.

Then the look vanished, and the silver-faced nobleman replied, "The prince... _Adrien_ is a remarkable boy. I see so much of your traits in him: compassionate, daring, and willing to do what is necessary for the good of others." Reginald kissed the queen's hand, making her face warm from the rush flowing through her. "I am truly grateful that you both consider me a friend."

Vivienne was blushing entirely now. It was so bizarre, looking into this man's eyes and seeing paradise within those crystalline orbs of blue. But the queen welcomed it all the same.

"Then perhaps... if it's not too bold to say..." Vivienne stammered in a faint voice, "... you could be _more_ than just a friend."

Now Reginald was looking at her as though he was watching the sunrise.

So the queen continued, "My darling boy has many things in his life, except for the one thing he desperately needs: a father. Since I lost Gabriel, I knew it would be hard for Adrien to grow up without someone other than me who could..." She paused to take a deep breath and stared deeply into Reginald's mesmerizing gaze. "... who could love and care for him just as much as I do. Over the past year, I had yet to find a husband with an interest in my son." Vivienne smiled. "Until now."

"My queen..." Reginald began as though he was in shock. His mouth hung open a bit, but no more words came out.

Vivienne stepped closer to him, so that the only thing separating them was their conjoined hands. "Reginald, I know this... is _quite_ uncustomary, but I..." Her heart beat so fast in her throat that she could barely speak. "My only wish is that you... that _we_... Oh, goodness me!" She huffed an laugh and looked away sheepishly. "I'm _completely_ out of character!"

Reginald laughed with her. "Nonsense," he said, giving her an enticing eyebrow. "But perhaps I can help ease your troubled heart."

And with that, the nobleman knelt on one knee, and Vivienne felt that miraculous fluttering inside her chest once again. _Surely this is some kind of magic_ , she wondered hazily.

"Vivienne, my dearest queen," Reginald said softly yet deeply, "these past few months with you and Adrien have been such a gift. And nothing would please me more than to see that wonderful boy getting exactly what he deserves. What you _both_ deserve." His mouth curled upward. "So... Will you marry me, Vivienne?"

The golden-haired queen placed a hand on her heart – By the gods, how it beat so fast! – and whispered with utmost joy, "Yes!"

Reginald's eyes gleamed with something alluring and mischievous, but Vivienne forgot all about it as he rose to his feet, pulled her into a warm embrace, and kissed her so tenderly on her soft, thin lips.

If Vivienne hadn't been standing with her back to the central apple tree, she would have realized that accepting the nobleman's proposal was a bad idea.

Because at that moment, one of the bright red apples crinkled like burnt paper and turned as black and rotten as the victorious darkness in Reginald's soul.

* * *

 _Ugh... I wish I had let the prince die on that horse_ , Reginald thought bitterly as one of the tailors finished adjusting his grand ceremonial tunic of purple, gold and silver. It was quite uncomfortable, particularly around the middle, and he was getting damn hot in here.

As though Fate was toying with him, Reginald heard a familiar voice from the doorway.

"Wow!" Prince Adrien exclaimed as he stepped into the room and gazed up at his stepfather-to-be from atop the ottoman. "You look amazing, Reginald! You sure are lucky to be marrying my mother."

The nobleman heaved a smile, despite his discomfort, and glanced over his shoulder at the prince.

Adrien was no less the little toy soldier, only now his purple and silver sleeves were puffy at the shoulders, making him look more like a court jester.

 _When I am king, I'll have to outlaw this ludicrous fashion._

"Thank you, my boy," Reginald finally said genially, "but it is _I_ who is the lucky one today."

"I am too," Adrien said as he gazed off at seemingly nothing. "I'm finally going to have a real father; someone who will always be there for me." Then his face fell into a worried pout and he turned back to Reginald. "You will, won't you?"

Waving off the tailors, Reginald stepped off the ottoman and bent over to place his hands on the prince's shoulders. _Step by step._

"Of course, Adrien," Reginald said, his icy-blue eyes bearing deep into the boy's green ones with pure, unadulterated promise. "No matter what happens, I am here for you. Truly and forever."

 _Until the day you join your "dear" father in the lowest pits of hell._

Adrien smiled at the man. "Thank you." Then he glanced over Reginald's wedding uniform and matching cape, and he sighed. "I hope for _my_ wedding, I'll be just as dashing and handsome as you are."

Reginald chuckled. "I'm sure you will be."

" _Meo-awr! Hiss!_ "

Reginald glanced sharply at his feet, where a tiny black kitten was staring up at him – fangs flashed, tail on end, and green eyes narrowed with the slits needle-thin.

 _That cat again... always sticking its nose where it isn't wanted_ , Reginald thought. He wished he could turn it into a cockroach and stamp it out of existence.

"Plagg, what are you doing here?" Adrien whined as he scooped the annoying little creature in his hands. "Don't be such a sour-puss, you silly kitty. Reginald's part of the family now. You'll learn to love him."

Reginald chuckled again and walked over to the large, round mirror hanging on the black-stone walls of his private chambers. He had brought it to the castle with him when he left his small country manor... along with a few other "souvenirs" that he kept hidden elsewhere.

"I wouldn't bet on it, Adrien," Reginald mused as he rearranged his twisted sleeves. "Black cats are particularly stubborn creatures."

Adrien giggled and stroked Plagg, making him meow more softly. "Yep, that's Plagg for you, especially when it comes to food," he said. "He's supposed to stay in my room during the wedding. I better put him back before Nathalie finds out." As he scurried to the door, the prince called over his shoulder, "I'll see you at the ceremony! I can't wait!"

Reginald grinned darkly and gazed back into the mirror. "Neither can I, my little prince," he spoke in a cold, sadistic tone. "Neither can I."

The amethyst brooch hummed to life with energy, and Reginald allowed the magic to pulse through his veins. He could see, hear and smell everything through the thick stone walls of the castle: the bustling servants, the anxious guests, the eager nobles...

... and the excited little boy running through the hallways, utterly oblivious to the fact that evil eyes were upon him.

"Just one more role to play," Reginald – Lord Hawkmoth – murmured with cruel suspense. "Then... the _real_ fun begins."

* * *

 **MB: Yes, Nooroo is human in this universe. But I know what you're all thinking:**

 **Why isn't he in "I Will Always Find You"? What happens to him? (Gulp)**

 **Don't worry... you'll all find out soon enough.**


	3. The Silver Lining: Blind Faith

**THE SILVER LINING**

 _ **Chapter 3:**_

 _ **Blind Faith**_

 _Nine years would pass before the seeds of the sorcerer's revenge would finally sprout._

 _And unfortunately for the young prince and his closest friends, it marked the beginning of the end._

 _The end of all they knew..._

 _... and the beginning of all they feared..._

* * *

"All hail their Royal Highnesses, Queen Vivienne and Prince Adrien!" the herald announced.

Adrien grinned sinisterly at his mother as he escorted her into the grand ballroom.

A hand flew to Vivienne's throat, and she gaped at the large crowd that started clapping the moment the queen and her son entered.

There were several unidentifiable shouts of, "Happy Birthday!" and "Long live the queen!"

Vivienne laughed and scowled playfully at her son. "You sneaky rascal," she grumbled with a bright smile. "You said only a _handful_ of nobles. Half the kingdom is here!"

The nineteen-year-old prince shrugged. "What can I say? I can be _very_ persuasive."

His mother gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Well, _two_ can play at that game," she said with a conniving purr in her tone.

Adrien held her hand as they strode into the centre of the ballroom amidst the sea of applause. Then he watched as the queen raised her free hand, willing the crowd into silence.

"Thank you, thank you all," Vivienne announced, her face alit with amusement. "I seek nothing more than the happiness of all that set foot in my kingdom. And seeing you all here tonight... well, I sincerely hope there's enough wine to go around."

Adrien chuckled with the rest of the onlookers, shaking his head.

"Alas," the queen said more softly, "all your gifts and praises pale in comparison to the greatest gift I could ever ask for." She turned with a beaming grin towards her unwitting son. "My darling Adrien."

Many people let out deep sighs and "awws", and Adrien suddenly turned almost as red as his scarlet-coloured party jacket.

 _Leave it to Mother to re-direct all the attention towards me on_ her _birthday_ , Adrien thought as he rubbed the back of his head.

Vivienne took both her son's hands in hers before looking up at him with genuine love and modesty. "Every time I look at you," she continued, "I'm reminded of how the simplest things in our lives can bring us the most profound joy. And now that you've grown, I hope you will find your own happiness in the years to come."

Adrien smiled back at her. They truly were a pair of peas in a pod, and not just in appearance.

"Thank you, Mother," he finally said before giving the queen a proud hug.

After the clapping had ceased, Queen Vivienne ordered the celebration to begin.

Adrien took this opportunity to slip through the field of sharp uniforms and swaying gowns towards one of the refreshment tables, where a young, distinct, tanned-skinned man stood.

"She hopes you'll find your own happiness," Nino the huntsman muttered between mouthfuls of cream puff. His dark brown eyes stared up at the ceiling sarcastically. "Hmm... I wonder what _that_ could mean."

The prince snorted and elbowed his best friend in the ribs. "Come on, Nino," he groaned as he reached for a glass of cider, "don't start the party with another one of your "find a girl" lectures, will you? Besides, this party is for my mother, not me."

"I know," Nino said, "but all of her friends brought their daughters with them, and some of them are actually pretty cute. I'm just saying."

"Oh, yeah? Well, why don't _you_ go and talk to them? Maybe you'll have better luck."

"See? _There's_ your problem." Nino put down his plate and faced the prince with the facial expression of an overly-helpful older brother. "How are you ever going to meet someone if all you do is sulk around in corners like a shy puppy?"

"For once, your friend makes an excellent point, Your Highness," came a familiar voice.

Adrien rolled his eyes and turned to see a tall, sharp, pasty woman standing beside him. Her light-blue eyes twinkled like those of a criminal mastermind.

"Really, Nat? You too?" Adrien made a small choking sound at the back of his throat. "Can't I go one day without you two nagging on me about your so-called marriage plans?"

"Hey! _I'm_ not saying you should get hitched," Nino insisted with raised hands. Then he glanced upward and uttered, "Not yet, anyway."

Lady Nathalie of Sancoeur swished the wine inside her glass as she said, "You should at least _try_ to be interested in a girl, Adrien. You're practically a grown man now, and soon all of the eligible maidens will be taken."

The prince ran a gloved hand through his golden hair, sighing frustratingly between his teeth. "It's not that I'm not interested in girls, Nat. It's just..." He stared down at the mosaic-tiled floor of the ballroom, which reminded him of dragon scales. "I've yet to meet someone who's interested in _me_. And not just because I'm a prince. Or handsome."

Nino nodded at that with pursed lips. "Can't argue with that."

"You just need to broaden your horizons, Adrien," Nathalie said reassuringly. "Perhaps it's time you considered a union with someone from one of the other kingdoms. What about Princess Chloe of Bourgeois? I've heard she's very regal and elegant... and she has golden hair, like you do!"

Adrien frowned as though he had tasted something foul. He had heard a lot of things about King Andre's daughter and heir, and none of them impressed him.

Nino caught his friend's look and added, "And Dupain-Cheng has _two_ princesses. They're both skilled fighters, and the youngest is said to be the most beautiful in the kingdom... with moonlight skin and hair like the night sky."

Adrien took a deep drink from his cider before glancing over at his mother.

Queen Vivienne was accepting a glass of red wine from the purple-haired servant, Nooroo. Adrien found the man to be quite peculiar – always watchful of everything as though he had eyes on the back of his head. Not to mention Nooroo had a tendency to be very direct with his superiors.

Redirecting his gaze at the queen, Adrien saw her giggle from something one of her guests said. She had changed so much after she married Lord Reginald, almost as though her first husband had never existed. Adrien was more than glad to see her happy, but at the same time he slowly started to realize that Nino and Nathalie might actually be right.

 _Will I ever be as happy with someone as Mother is?_

She told him all those years ago that true love was the most powerful thing in the world. If Vivienne had found it, why couldn't Adrien?

The prince finally responded, "I would rather marry a girl for who she is on the inside, not the outside."

A throaty chuckle aroused him, and Adrien glanced up.

"Spoken like a man with a heart of gold," King Reginald said as he approached the small group and leaned upon this cane with both hands.

Nathalie and Nino instinctively bowed.

"Forgive my interruption," Reginald said, "but might I steal my stepson for a moment?"

Adrien smiled. "Of course!" He kindly excused himself from his friend and his governess before taking a walk with his stepfather.

"Your mother is right, you know," Reginald said, and Adrien couldn't help but notice that the king's tone was somewhat dismal. "You are the real and only joy in her life. I could never compare to that."

Adrien blinked incredulously at his stepfather. "Don't be silly, Reg. You've done so much for her and the kingdom. How could she possibly think so little of you? _I_ certainly don't."

Reginald shrugged, his silver face softening with kindness. "You truly are your mother's son, Adrien, and your words honour me," he said. "You know, in the nine years I've known you, you continue to impress me. Not just with your skills and wisdom, but with your heart." He pointed at the spot on Adrien's chest. "You carry so much love inside it's a wonder it hasn't burst yet."

The prince chuckled. "I guess... Love has no limits," he suggested.

"Perhaps." The king's eyes drifted offside, looking dull. "But sometimes its better – and safer – to keep your feelings locked up. You never know when someone might take advantage of your trust... and the next minute, you're left with nothing but pain and regret."

Adrien stared at Reginald with narrowed eyes. _Why is he telling me this? Are he and Mother having problems again?_

Before the prince could enquire further as to what the king meant, there were sudden shouts of unrest, followed by the unmistakable sound of glass breaking upon tile.

Somewhere in the ballroom, a woman screamed. Then another.

Gasping, Adrien quickly weaved his way through the petrified crowd. He could hear his stepfather calling his name behind him, but the prince was too preoccupied with finding the source of the widespread panic.

Until he emerged from the crowd into the open space they had created... and his heart nearly stopped.

"Mother!" Adrien cried.

Queen Vivienne was lying sideways upon the ballroom floor, moaning and grasping her stomach. Her face was as white as death, and her breathing came out sharply as though she was choking on knives.

Nooroo was standing not far away from her, looking like he was staring into Death's eyes himself. Then his purple eyes – the pupils so thin they were invisible – found Adrien's, and the manservant spun around and forced his way through the onlookers. Everyone was either too shocked or too afraid to stop him.

Adrien rushed over and knelt beside the queen, lifting her head up with one hand.

The bodice of her cream-coloured dress was stained red, and for a frantic heartbeat Adrien thought it was blood. But then he saw the broken bits of glass and the puddle of wine beside the queen.

 _Wait a minute_... Adrien thought. _Wasn't that the wine Nooroo gave her?_

 _Oh god... Did he...?_

"Mother?" Adrien asked, his voice betraying the tension rising inside him. "Are you all right? Say something!"

From the crowd, he heard Nathalie shriek, "Fetch the physician immediately!"

Vivienne's eyes inched open, and her face twisted in pain. "Wi..." she hissed. "Wi... _Wine_..."

Adrien dared to look at the red puddle that was now soaking into his trousers... and he almost fainted.

He felt a presence behind him, and Adrien looked over his shoulder to see Reginald staring down at them with wide blue eyes.

"She's been poisoned!" the prince told him urgently. "The wine – Nooroo gave it to her!"

Women gasped and covered their mouths, and men murmured anxiously to each other.

But the king did neither.

" _Guards_!" Reginald bellowed, causing several people to shrink away. "Find Nooroo! I want him seized and questioned at once!"

The armed men bearing the purple and black colours of Agreste sprang into action.

And as Adrien held his quivering mother in his arms, he felt tears filling his eyes.

 _This can't be happening_ , he thought. _Why is this happening?_

"No... Please no..." the prince begged to whatever god was watching. "I can't lose her too..."

* * *

The castle was eerily quiet, save for the soft flickering of the torches that lined the black and white marble halls.

Then there was the tapping of Adrien's boots as he paced anxiously in front of the door to his mother's bedchamber.

Nino was leaning against the opposite wall, watching his friend with a combined look of empathy and helplessness. Nathalie fidgeted with her hands. King Reginald stood as still as a stone statue, the torchlight flickering off his silver mask.

It had only been a few hours, but it was now late into the night. And still, there was no word from the physician... or the queen.

Adrien's eyelids were dry and heavy, but he refused to let sleep overcome him. He needed to see his mother. Now. Tonight. He needed to know she was safe and alive.

The physician had shooed the prince away earlier, stating she needed space and quiet to do her diagnosis on her patient. Adrien had protested, until Reginald calmly pulled his stepson out of the queen's room.

After that, waiting became an itch the prince couldn't scratch away.

Thankfully, no one said anything to Adrien the entire time. He was glad, because then _he_ would start talking and he wouldn't be able to stop.

 _How could this have happened? Why would Nooroo do this to her? Will she ever be able to leave her room again? What if she's dying?_

Adrien wiped a layer of sweat from his brow. He had never felt so worried, scared and tormented at the same time. Was this the "pain and regret" Reginald had warned him about; this nagging ache in his chest that was beginning to drag him down?

The door clicked open.

Adrien halted and spun to face the court physician, who was a sweet-faced old woman wearing the white veil and robes of a nurse.

Everyone held their breath as the woman murmured softly, "I've given the queen an antidote. She is still quite weak, but she should be all right once she's had a bit of rest."

Adrien let out a relived sigh. _She's all right. She's alive._ He felt Nino grasp his shoulder with renewed hope.

Then Reginald spoke in a hard tone, "Do we know what caused her ailment?"

"Thankfully, it was only essence of fireweed – nothing untreatable," the physician replied. "Furthermore, I was able to treat it with enough time to spare. Still... one can never be too sure. I recommend that Her Majesty remain in bed for a few days, and I'll check up on her first thing in the morning."

Adrien nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Melinda."

The woman curtsied. "You can go in and see her, if you wish, but then she must rest. Doctor's orders." With that, she bade the king farewell and took her leave.

"I'd go in with you, Adrien," Reginald said, looking grim, "but with Nooroo still on the loose, I'm afraid I won't rest easily until he is apprehended for this... this vile act of treason. I must check in with the guards to see what they've found so far." He patted his stepson on the back. "Please let your mother know that I'm thinking of her, and I will do everything in my power to amend all this."

"I will, Reg," Adrien said with a smile. "Thank you."

The king strode away, his cane tapping hard against the tiled floor in a cold, rhythmic pace.

 _He really does underestimate himself_ , Adrien thought as he entered the bedchamber.

The queen lay comfortably against her pillows, her long hair brushed and straw-like. Her skin was still pale and sickly, but her green eyes lit up at the sight of her son.

"Good evening, sweetheart," Vivienne said sleepily, "or... is it already morning?"

Adrien's mouth lifted slightly as he took a seat on the bed, right at his mother's side. "I guess... we're in between?" he offered. "Maybe we should call it "even-morning" or something."

The queen giggled... and let out a phlegmy cough.

Nathalie stood at the foot of the grand bed. "Can I get you anything, Vivienne?" she asked nervously. "A glass of hot milk? Some more candles for the chill?"

Vivienne let out a sigh-like groan. "Oh, don't fuss over me, Nathalie. I'm all right. I have the two of you, and that's all I need."

Adrien took his mother's hand, nearly cringing from how cold her fingers were.

Then the queen murmured, "Adrien, what's troubling you?"

The prince blinked at her. "Hmm? Nothing, Mother. I'm just glad you're safe."

Vivienne wasn't convinced. "Sweetheart," she said, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, "you don't have to be so worried about me either."

Adrien let his cheery demeanour fall, and his chin dipped low.

He swallowed before starting. "When I saw you there on the floor, I... I thought..." He took a deep breath to stop himself from choking on his next words. "When I lost Father, I didn't even cry. But when I thought I was going to lose _you_..."

"Shh..." His mother stroked his cheek, like she used to whenever he woke up from a nightmare. "It's over, Adrien. I'm not going anywhere. Not now, and not ever." She smiled at him firmly. "The ones we love most always stay with us. _That_ is our greatest strength, and it can _never_ be torn apart."

Adrien flashed his teeth in a grin. "You have a proverb lined for _everything_ , don't you?" he growled playfully.

"I'm the queen – that's my job."

The prince chuckled, as did Nathalie.

And as he kissed his mother's hand and sighed with a smile, Adrien knew at what she said was true.

 _Nothing can ever tear us apart. Not now, and not ever._

* * *

Once Nino was assured that Adrien was back to normal, he stealthily slipped out of the queen's bedchamber and made his way down the hall.

He wished he could be with Adrien and the queen right now, but all he could think about was the fact that the wonderful woman who was _his_ mother almost as much as she was Adrien's... had almost died. And the assassin was still on the loose.

Nino didn't want to sit around and wait for good news to appear. He was a huntsman – he would go and find it himself.

And what better place to start than the servants' quarters? Nino was sure King Reginald's guards had already searched Nooroo's bed space and trunk, but the huntsman wanted to do his own investigation. And who knows? Maybe the soldiers missed something. They usually did.

Nino was debating whether he should pick up his handy twin hatchets just in case... when he heard a sharp " _Psst_!" from one of the narrow corridors.

Nino squinted into the darkness. "Hello?" he called.

No answer.

Frowning, Nino stepped carefully into the elongated alcove. It led to a supply room sealed by a wooden door.

Well... it _should_ have been sealed. The door was inched open.

Nino's instincts were telling him this was a bad idea, especially to go in unarmed. Was it Nooroo? Was he trying to make another move?

 _If he is_ , the huntsman thought as he undid his belt, _he picked the wrong man to jump._

Wrapping the ends of the leather belt around both hands, Nino lightly pushed the door open with his foot. The room was only big enough for five people... or ten if you removed all of the shelves of blankets, mops, buckets and bars of soap.

But there was no one to be seen.

Nino took a step inside, making sure it was audible. _Show yourself_ , he glared into the darkness.

Then he felt it: a hand gripping him by the shoulder.

The huntsman immediately snatched it up and gave it a sharp twist.

The assailant barely let out a cry of pain before Nino spun around and latched the belt he was holding around the scrawny man's neck. Then he rammed his attacker against one of the shelves, causing a few bars of soap to topple over like heavy balls of hail. Then, using the belt to pull the man back by the neck, Nino tripped him up so that the man was now on his knees.

Keeping a good grip on the belt, the huntsman leaned over to whisper in the man's ear, "First poisoning, and now an attempted murder in the dark? You're quite the amateur, aren't you, Nooroo?" He tugged the belt harder and growled, "Personally, I think you're a coward."

"I wasn't trying...!" The purple-haired manservant squawked before wincing. He tried to take a breath and then gasped, "I need your help!"

Nino almost laughed. A poisoner asking a huntsman for help? That was hilarious.

"I'm flattered," the dark-skinned fighter said, "but why should I trust you?"

Nooroo's voice seemed to deepen even through all that choking: "Because if you don't, you'll never be able to save the prince!"

Nino's smirk fell, and his heart turned so cold he would need a pickaxe to chop off the ice.

With a great heave, the huntsman dragged Nooroo back on his feet and loosened the belt just enough to spin the gangly servant around. Nino practically slammed Nooroo against the shelf.

To his surprise, the purple boy didn't fight back, or try to run away.

Dropping the belt, Nino reached for a nearby broom, lifted the bushy end over his head... and smashed it against another shelf. The entire thing snapped in two, leaving the one in the huntsman's hand with a jagged tip.

Nino walked over and pinned Nooroo by the neck with his good throwing arm.

He didn't know what was coming over him. Maybe he did, and he just didn't care. Either way, the beast had finally come out. And it was hungry for retribution.

"Listen here, Mop-Top," the dark-skinned man said ominously, like a reaper preparing to strike his victim with his scythe. "I'm not a patient man. I'm also no stranger to blood. And now, you've just threatened my best friend." Nino poked Nooroo's middle with the broken tip of the broom. "So unless you want me to sewer you from groin to neck like a pig on Summer Solstice, you'll cut the crap and tell me what the hell's going on!"

Once more, Nooroo didn't look the slightest bit frazzled by the huntsman or the broom. "It wasn't a threat..." he croaked from underneath Nino's arm. "It was a warning. The queen and her son are in danger!"

Nino blinked for a moment. "I'm going to need a bit more than that, squirmy."

From the faint light coming from outside, Nino could almost see Nooroo's eyes gleam with calm sincerity.

"I speak nothing but the truth, huntsman," the manservant said. "I'll tell you anything you want to know. You need only ask."

Nino felt his beastly anger subsiding. He didn't quite understand it, but something about this purple-eyed jester gave him cause to consider his words. Being a huntsman, Nino could look an animal in the eye and see what they felt before he took it down: apprehension, curiosity, the need to fight back...

The same could be said for humans too. One look at them and Nino could almost see into their souls. And right now, Nooroo bore the soul of a man with nothing to hide.

Sighing through his nose, Nino removed his arm and lowered the jagged stick.

While Nooroo leaned forward and gasped for breath, the huntsman strode back outside and pulled one of the torches from the wall in the main hallway. Double-checking to make sure no one was coming, Nino slipped back into the supply room and carefully inched the door shut.

Nino turned back to Nooroo, making sure the torch was between them. "All right," he whispered, though not without suspicion. "First question: why did you poison the queen?"

The manservant cleared his throat before replying, "I didn't do it."

"Adrien says he saw you give her the wine."

" _That_ , I did. But I didn't poison it – I swear. It was given to me to give to her."

Nino's eyebrows furrowed. "By whom?"

There was no lie in Nooroo's voice as he uttered, "The king."

But Nino found it hard to believe him. "The king," he said flatly.

"I know what you're thinking, but please hear me out," Nooroo pleaded silently. "Then you can turn me in if you still don't trust me."

 _Fair enough_ , Nino thought. He gave a stiff nod.

So Nooroo began: "Two days ago, I overhead my master conversing with one of his new guards outside his private chambers. He was telling the man to bring him "the ingredients" by the queen's birthday."

" _The_ ingredients?" Nino repeated, his curiosity now piqued. "For what?"

"I don't know – he didn't say. But as soon as the guard left, my master went inside his chambers. I went over to ask him what the meeting was about. I stopped right in the doorway..." Nooroo's voice quivered and his purple eyes darted between the walls around them. "That's when I saw... the wall _move_!"

"You saw..." Nino shook his head, unsure if he heard the crazy man right. "Pretend I'm an idiot. Tell me _exactly_ what you saw."

Nooroo shivered, as though the memory frightened him. "I saw the... the wall beside his dresser slide open," he explained quietly. "It... _merged_ with the stones and revealed a large opening. There was light coming from within. I think it might be some sort of secret room."

Now Nino was more perplexed than ever. "That _still_ doesn't make any sense!" he grumbled, throwing his hands up in frustration. "King Gabriel never had a "secret room", and Reginald's chambers used to be _his_." The huntsman narrowed his brown eyes at Nooroo. "How do I know you're not just spewing bullshit to try and throw me off?"

The manservant glared at him, looking rather insulted. "Think about it, huntsman, if it's not too hard for you," he said in a tone that was much older than he probably was. "I learn that the king is hiding something – something that shouldn't be there – and the next thing I know, I'm being framed for poisoning the queen? It _can't_ be a coincidence!" He glanced warily at the walls again and brought his volume down to a frantic whisper. "The king knows that I'm on to him! Unless I find evidence against him, he'll make me disappear! Please, you have to help me!"

 _Either I'm going mad... or I actually think he's telling the truth_ , Nino thought.

But one last question remained: "What does all this have to do with Adrien and the queen?"

Nooroo's gaze lowered, the purple irises turning glossy with guilt. "Is..." He swallowed hard. "Is Her Majesty all right?"

Nino suddenly felt sorry him. A real killer had no regrets about anything, and the huntsman had specifically called Nooroo an amateur. _Maybe he really_ is _innocent._

"She'll live," Nino said gently.

The purple man sighed before straightening up. "Then it's imperative that we stop the king before any further harm comes to her... or her son." He gave Nino a meaningful look. "If you truly care for the prince like I know you do... you'll do whatever it takes to protect him."

Nino looked away, contemplating Nooroo's words.

Yes, he would always protect Adrien. The prince was like a brother to Nino. They had grown up together; they looked to one another for support.

If Reginald was really behind this...

If anything happened to the prince... and Nino couldn't save him...

 _I can't take any chances._

Nino brought the flaming torch around to his side, so that he could look Nooroo straight in the eye. "You will take me to the king's chambers," he commanded, his voice as sharp as a sword. "You will show me this "secret room". And if I get the _slightest_ feeling that you're trying to trick me, a public hanging will seem like a blessing compared to what _I_ will do to you."


	4. The Silver Lining: Dark Reflections

**THE SILVER LINING**

 _ **Chapter 4:**_

 _ **Dark Reflections**_

 _Sometimes..._

 _In fact, more often than not..._

 _The most insidious betrayals are from the people we trust the most._

 _And almost every time, we never notice until it's too late..._

* * *

Nino felt like a criminal, sneaking into the king's private chambers in the dead of night.

Well, he _was_ sneaking in without permission. And he _was_ trying to acquire some actual proof of Reginald's involvement in the queen's poisoning. So... yeah, it was technically stealing.

Assuming Nooroo was telling the truth, but Nino didn't want to be too quick to judge. _Yet_.

The huntsman still had the torch, but he no longer needed it to see. The entire room was awash with moonlight from the balcony and firelight from the roaring hearth in the corner. Still, the emptiness and vacant shadows made Nino tremble. _This feels too easy_.

"Over here," Nooroo whispered, beckoning his companion to the wall on the far left side.

Nino followed him and paused. All he saw was a wall of blank, black stones.

He really wasn't surprised, but Nooroo's words from the supply closet still tugged on his conscience. _If there really is a door here_ , Nino thought, _it would make sense that someone should look it over at first glance._

"You sure this is where you saw the door?" he asked.

Nooroo frowned at him. "I'd prefer a smarter question than _that_ , huntsman," he said coldly.

Nino scowled, wanting to burn the purple boy's britches with the torch. "All right, then. How do we open it?"

"I don't know. I only saw the door slide open. I'm not sure how the king made it happen." Nooroo ran his hands along the stones one by one. "Perhaps... There is... some kind of... lever... or something..."

Nino didn't have the patience for this. He kept glancing over his shoulder at the chamber door, thinking that any minute now the king was going to burst in on them and string them up from the balcony without the need for a trial.

 _Great. Now_ I'm _getting all paranoid._

"Well, hurry it up, will you?" the huntsman hissed anxiously. "I don't need to remind you what happens if we –"

"Hold on," Nooroo said, lifting his hands off the wall in contemplation. "Two of the stones are loose."

"What?" Nino stepped closer, his sharp eyes searching for deviations in the rock.

Nooroo pointed to a small wedge of rock on his left, and a bigger one two rows below on the right.

Upon close inspection, and with some help from the torchlight, Nino could see thin creases along the edges of the stones. Barely noticeable unless you knew where to look.

"Which one do we press first?" Nino asked.

"Actually..." Nooroo drifted off into space before returning to reality. "I think they have to be pressed _together_."

With that, the manservant placed his hands on the loose stones... and pushed.

The rocks sank into the wall with a grinding sound, and Nino heard a sharp _click_ from within the wall, like clockwork snapping into place.

Then... the wall moved.

Nino lurched back, mouth agape, as the entire segment of stone slid to the left. At first, the huntsman saw darkness within its folds, but then he saw faint, blue light from within. Moonlight. There must be a window.

The sliding wall slammed to a stop, exposing Nino and Nooroo to a smaller chamber. The only piece of furniture was a small, stone table. One of the walls had small alcoves, inside which were stacks of books, scrolls, bottles and jars. The bigger wall on the far end was different – it was made entirely of gold metallic boxes, each one bearing a strange runic image that Nino couldn't understand.

"Now do you believe me?" Nooroo asked.

Nino nodded unconsciously, though it made that fearful twinge in his gut grow bigger. If Purple-Eyes had been right about the secret room, could he be right about King Reginald as well?

 _Only one way to find out._ "Come on," Nino whispered as he took a cautious step into the lab.

The manservant followed, and they were immediately hit by the stink of burnt hair, rotten flesh, and wet, slimy plants.

"Ugh," Nino groaned. "It smells like death in here."

"I'll take your word for it," Nooroo muttered as he covered his mouth with a handkerchief. "Look around. Do you see anything suspicious?"

"This whole place is suspicious enough," Nino said as he scanned the room, the torch casting a ghostly glow throughout the room.

That's when he saw the far right wall, the grand portrait that hung there... and the beautiful, simple-looking woman painted upon it.

Nino squinted at her. "Who's she?"

Nooroo turned and shrugged. "I've never seen her before," he replied. "Definitely not a sister or mother. An old lover, perhaps?"

That was probably the case, but it made Nino curious as to why Reginald would keep a portrait of an old lover after he married Queen Vivienne? _I guess some people can't be replaced_ , the huntsman thought. _But then again... Wouldn't he have told someone by now?_

As Nooroo walked over to the wall of metal boxes, Nino eyed the stone table. There was a large, worn book left wide open, its pages yellowed with age. Beside it was a small cauldron containing the remains of something dark and red. There was also a mortar filled with traces of a crushed-up, orange plant.

Reginald had been working on something here. Recently.

Nino glanced at the book again. From the faded text, he could make out words like "dissolving level", "wine", and "appropriate colour". Then Nino took a pinch of the grounded plant-dust and sniffed at it. It had a pungent smell, with traces of ash. _Fireweed_. Just a tiny amount could cure a stomach ache, but too much left fatal toxins in the blood.

 _Wait a minute... Wasn't fireweed the stuff that the physician...?_

Swallowing hard, Nino took one last peek into the half-empty cauldron. Then the book.

It struck him like a rock. "Oh gods..." he breathed, stepping away from the table. "Reginald found a way to conceal fireweed in the red wine! That's how he poisoned the queen! You were right, Nooroo – it _was_ him!"

Nino snapped around, only to see the manservant with his back to him.

The huntsman wished he had his hatchets with him, at least for comfort. "Nooroo?" he murmured, stepping cautiously over to his companion.

One of the metal boxes had been pulled out of the back wall. The lid had been lifted, revealing something bright-red and glowing from within.

 _Thump thump, thump thump, thump thump..._

Nooroo finally looked over at Nino, his face plastered with white horror.

Though it worried him, Nino stepped closer and peered into the box.

Then he reeled back, his own face turning the colour of candle wax. "How is that possible?" he whispered.

Nooroo spoke only two words, but they were answer enough: "Dark magic."

The huntsman almost shook his head, his thoughts overflowing with the stories he had been told since he was a child; tales of sorcery, magic potions and stolen hearts.

 _No... It can't be!_

 _But if it is..._

Nino immediately sprung to attention. "We have to leave. _Now!_ " he added loudly when Nooroo failed to move.

The manservant slammed the lid shut and shoved the box back into its socket before rushing out of the secret room with Nino.

All the while, the huntsman's own heart hammered and his mind raced. He had to tell Adrien and the queen... to _warn_ them...!

 _SLAM!_

The door to the king's chambers heaved itself closed as though a hard wind had forced it. The floor pounded with the resounding bang as Nino and Nooroo skidded to a stop.

Nino immediately spun around and grabbed Nooroo's arm. "Quick!" he cried. "The balcony!"

They had barely gone a few steps before a cloud of purple exploded in front of them.

Nino gasped.

And when the smoke cleared, a pair of piercing blue eyes stared into him like frozen knives.

Dark magic indeed.

"Well, well, well..." King Reginald crooned with a sneer, reminding Nino of a grinning skull. "The huntsman and the snoop. Not the type of heroic pair I was expecting, to be honest."

Nino felt his fear melting into anger as confusion became truth.

It was _him_ all along. The slayer of King Gabriel, the terror of Agreste... the lord of the black butterfly.

Nino's throat clenched so hard he couldn't get the name to come out.

Thankfully, Nooroo did. " _Hawkmoth_ ," he exhaled with profound contempt.

The king lifted his chin coolly. " _Lord_ Hawkmoth will suffice," he stated. "Then again, I've been yearning for a new title for quite some time. I think "the Sorcerer King" suits me nicely. Don't you?"

"So it _is_ true," Nino spat. " _You_ poisoned the queen." He could feel his rage roiling inside his gut, begging to be let out. " _You_ killed Adrien's father ten years ago, didn't you?"

Hawkmoth began pacing in front of them, his silver face contorting. "You have no idea how... _infuriating_ it has been," he growled. "Standing in the presence of my archenemy's family, waiting for the proper moment to strike them the hardest."

 _So_ that's _what this is all about_ , Nino thought. _Revenge. And on a man he had already killed._

"But it was well worth the wait," Hawkmoth said, his kingly demeanour returning. "And now, I will finally finish what I started. And as a bonus, I get to get rid of the two nosy servants standing in my way. By the way, did you enjoy reading my book, huntsman? Was it educational for you?"

Nooroo gasped. "This was all a trick!" he blurted. "You _knew_ I was watching from the door the whole time! You knew I would go to Nino for help!"

"All so you could lure Adrien's loyal bodyguard away," Hawkmoth finished for him with a grin, "leaving his precious prince alone and unprotected."

The beast inside Nino came back out again. "I won't let you lay a _finger_ on him!" he snarled, holding out the torch in front of him.

Hawkmoth snapped his fingers... and the torch burst into bubbles, flame and all.

Nino stared aghast at his empty, soapy hand as the king laughed in his face.

"As much as I admire your valour," Hawkmoth said, glancing at his fingertips and rubbing them together, "I can't just let you scamper off and ruin what I've spent nineteen years planning for."

Nino couldn't breathe for a moment.

And then, he _really_ couldn't breathe.

Hawkmoth raised a clawed hand, and something invisible wrapped around Nino's throat and squeezed. Nino clawed helplessly at his neck, even as he felt his feet leaving the ground.

"No, stop!" Nooroo cried, his hands outstretched to his companion. "Please, my master, don't kill him! Take me instead!"

"That won't be necessary, Nooroo," the king said casually, sneering up at a writhing Nino. "I have a more satisfying fate in store for this huntsman. After all..." His voice deepened like the hollow wind in a dark forest. "Why waste a talent for killing when I can use it to my advantage?"

Even with his distorted vision, Nino glared down at the traitor king.

Then, something soft and cool fluttered into his brain... and Nino drifted into sleep.

* * *

Nooroo watched with panic as Prince Adrien's best friend slumped to the floor.

But then the king – no, _Lord Hawkmoth_ – was stalking towards him.

"Now... What to do with you..." the evil wizard contemplated.

Nooroo backed slowly away, step by step. His purple eyes flared with something he had never felt before. It wasn't courage. It was more like... certainty. It was as though he knew something was true and nothing was going to change his mind.

"You won't win," Nooroo mumbled, his voice shaking. "It may take a long time, but everyone _will_ know who you really are... and what you've done to their true king."

He felt his back pressing against something cold, flat and smooth. Glass?

But he didn't dare take his eyes off his master. "And if you continue down this path," Nooroo went on, "the shadow of the vengeance you reap will haunt you forever, until it drags you down into an abyss of your own making."

He wasn't surprised when Hawkmoth cackled.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were a soothsayer," the king said. "Or a poet." He grabbed Nooroo's chin with a gentle grip and shook his head, though there was no guilt in his eyes. "That's always the problem with you, Nooroo: you know far too much for your own good."

Hawkmoth's mouth curled upward, and Nooroo felt extremely cold.

"And yet..." the sorcerer mused, "your vast knowledge and desire to seek truths could still prove useful to me – more than _you_ ever could."

In the corner of his eye, Nooroo caught Hawkmoth's other hand curling its fingers.

But it was already too late.

Tendrils of liquid silver ensnared his arms. Then his neck. Then his chest, wrists, legs and face.

Nooroo let out a heart-wrenching scream before the inky mirror flowed into his mouth. He choked and gargled. His lungs burned. His whole body burned. He reached out with all his might, but then his new silver fingers burst into tiny droplets and melted into the wall behind him.

The last thing he saw was Lord Hawkmoth's heartless smirk.

The last thing he felt was peace. The burning was gone. He was free.

And then... he was trapped.

 _No... No... No!_

He couldn't make a sound. He couldn't break out. He felt nothing now. He _was_ nothing.

But he could still see his master's gleaming face; hear his master's cool command:

"Magic mirror on the wall, show me the prince."

There was nothing he could do to stop it.

* * *

When she finally shooed the last of her royal handmaids out of her bedchamber, Vivienne fell back against her pillow with a soft sigh.

 _I wish everyone would stop worrying over me_ , she thought with a smile. _After all, it's supposed to be the other way around. Just another part of the queenly job description._

Vivienne closed her eyes and willed herself into serene stillness. She purged her mind of any thought and imagined the darkness beneath her lids as a comforting blanket. The warmth from the fireplace and surrounding candles soothed her senses.

 _It won't be long until I'm back on my feet_ , she assured herself. _After all, not even a queen can sleep forever._

She listened to the soft hum of silence.

Then, she heard another sound: a whoosh of air.

The cold hit her like sudden breeze, and Vivienne gasped and sat up straight in bed.

The candles were nothing but smoking sticks of wax, and the hearth had gone dark and empty. The entire room was pitched into sheer blackness.

Vivienne's eyes darted through the expanse. Had someone left the window open? She reached over to her left to ring for one of her maids...

... until, like magic, the candles lit up simultaneously, and the fireplace roared back to life.

And from the retreating shadows, a tall figure emerged to stand at the foot of the bed.

Vivienne almost screamed, but then the man held up a steady hand.

"Be still, my queen," Reginald whispered in a deep monotone.

The golden-haired woman would have sighed and laughed with relief at the sight of her husband. But at that moment, something shoved her back onto her bed with a soft thump. Vivienne tried to rise up again, only to realize that she couldn't move at all. It was as though invisible iron bonds were holding her in place. She couldn't even nudge her head or curl her fingers.

Panicking, Vivienne looked down the length of the bed at Reginald. That's when she saw the tiny purplish glow at his throat, humming with some kind of dark and terrible power the queen could feel from where she lay.

 _Magic? When did Reginald learn magic?_

 _Or maybe... he's known all along._

"Reginald, what's going on?" Vivienne asked sharply, trying to use her regal tone.

To her confusion, the king grinned at her. Only it was a twisted sort of grin that left shadows on his silvery face. It was enough to make Vivienne even more afraid.

She glanced sideways at the door to her bedchamber. "Guar-!" she started.

Reginald raised a finger. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said in a threatening tone the queen had never heard him use before.

He snapped his fingers and, beside him, a whirl of glass and metal appeared.

It didn't take long for Vivienne to learn that she was gazing into a large, intricate mirror. But it wasn't _her_ image she was seeing – it was Adrien's.

He was lying asleep on his side in his bed, his mouth parted open a smidge and his untidy golden hair sprayed around his head. He looked so peaceful and calm, like he had nothing in the world to fear.

"We wouldn't anything to happen to the boy, now would we?" Reginald asked, the purr in his voice indicating that nothing would please him more than to see Adrien wrenched painfully from his blissful sleep.

Vivienne's pulse quickened, but she forced her own voice into a trembling whisper. "Reginald... _Why?!_ " A thousand possible questions lingered behind that one word, but the queen was too terrified to speak them.

Reginald ran a hand along the bed frame as he walked with feather-lightness over to his wife's left side. The floating mirror remained stationed where it had appeared.

"Let me tell you a bedtime story, my dear Vivienne," Reginald began, though he gazed off into seemingly nowhere as he spoke. "Once upon a time, there were two friends: a sorcerer and a soldier."

Vivienne's brow furrowed.

"One was a hero, and the other a villain," her husband explained. "But their roles were actually reversed, you see. The soldier _betrayed_ the sorcerer, and as a reward he was married to the beautiful princess. In time, he became a king." Reginald's eyes darkened like the shadows in the room. "Meanwhile, his act of treachery cost the sorcerer dearly."

Now Vivienne was beginning to see a connection here. Gabriel had been a soldier before she had married him.

But then... who was the sorcerer? A sharp knot in the queen's stomach told her she knew.

Reginald looked down at his wife at last, his face now bearing traces of sadistic anger. "And so there was a war," he said. "For nine years they fought, until one stormy night, on a small mountain peak, they faced each other in a final battle. The sorcerer won the duel... and crushed the king's beating heart in his bare hand."

Nine years. Storm. Mountain. Heart.

Vivienne's green eyes widened with terror and realization, and now she felt colder than ever. " _You_..." Her voice was raspy and alien to her.

Reginald gave her that insidious grin again before he sat down beside the queen.

Vivienne wanted to badly to crawl away from him, to scream for help... but then she saw Adrien's sleeping form in the mirror, and the queen pursed her lips so hard they hurt.

Reginald was Lord Hawkmoth.

And Lord Hawkmoth was the man who had ruthlessly murdered her beloved Gabriel.

 _He tricked me. All these years he lied his way into my court, my life... and I let him walk right in._

 _Oh, Gabriel, forgive me!_

"But the queen and her son lived," Hawkmoth explained with displeasure, "saved by a magical protection spell the sorcerer could not break. He had to plan his next revenge more carefully." The king smiled again. "Fortunately, he found the little prince going for a ride with his mother one summer day. And the sorcerer said to himself, "What better way to gain the queen's trust than to stage a daring rescue?""

Vivienne glared at him with newfound disgust. _You lying bastard. You used my son – my only child – to get your slimy hands on my throne!_

Hawkmoth noticed her expression and shrugged it off. "And so it was that the sorcerer became a king too. And when the time finally came to carry out his plan, he looked into the queen's fearful, broken-hearted eyes... and told her everything. And there was nothing she could do to stop him." Hawkmoth chuckled wickedly and leaned closer to Vivienne. "And the sorcerer lived happily ever after." He shrugged again. "Well, at least until he finished off her precious son as well."

Vivienne could not hold her tongue any longer. "You will not touch my son!" she snarled defiantly. "You may have killed my first husband, and you may kill me now like the snivelling coward you are... but you shall _not_ harm Adrien!"

Hawkmoth's brow rose, as though her words astounded him. "Oh, no, my silly queen – you shall not die. I couldn't kill you even if I wanted to." Then he frowned and spat, "You have your darling Gabriel to thank for that."

 _How could I have been so blind?_ "Gabriel was a far greater man than you will _ever_ be," Vivienne said.

A hand jerked out and snatched the queen by the throat. Vivienne's eyes bulged, but she continued to glare heatedly at the cunning wizard who was now seething at her through his teeth.

"Apparently, you weren't paying attention to my story," Hawkmoth hissed. " _I_ am not the villain here, Your Majesty – _you_ are. Your entire family is a curse upon this land; a blight for which there is only one cure: vengeance!"

The queen felt the sorcerer's fingers unlatch from her neck, and she coughed. When she looked over at Hawkmoth again, he was pulling something out of the folds of his tunic.

It looked like a tiny spinning needle, stuffed on the pointed end with wax.

"But like I already said," Hawkmoth spoke more calmly this time. "You shall not die. Instead, you will suffer through a dark, eternal slumber, thanks to this little curse of mine". He pulled off the wax bulb and waved the shiny needle in front of Vivienne. "And after your dear Adrien weeps over your motionless form," Hawkmoth said with a sneer, "I'll stage a little accident for the little prince."

He reached down and lifted the queen's limp hand. Vivienne tried to squirm or pull away, but the evil magic keeping her down remained.

"No! I won't let you!" she almost cried in an almost-pleading manner.

"The kingdom will mourn the tragedy," Hawkmoth went on as he pressed the pointy needle against the tip of the queen's finger. "And I – their humble new ruler – will lead Agreste into a new era of peace... and glory."

Hawkmoth looked into Vivienne's eyes one last time – unflinching and devoid of shame.

It was now or never. The Queen of Agreste steeled herself and used her strong voice. "You underestimate the power of love, but I'm sure you'll learn that soon enough."

Hawkmoth snorted with distaste. "Such fitting final words. And yet, so dramatic. Goodbye, Vivienne."

The queen felt the sting of the point as it jabbed into her flesh. She felt the hot bead of blood warm her finger.

Then... Then...

Such soft, cold, watery darkness.

 _Adrien..._

She fell headfirst into the void.


	5. The Silver Lining: Thanks 4 the Memories

**MB: If you're all wondering "Why the weird title in the Table of Contents?" - short answer, I couldn't make the whole thing fit, so I improvised.**

 **Anyways, enjoy! :)**

* * *

 **THE SILVER LINING**

 _ **Chapter 5:**_

 _ **Thanks for the Memories**_

 _A pall of mourning hung over the kingdom of Agreste like a heavy winter cloak._

 _For several days, nobles and commoners alike shared their grief with one another._

 _All the while, they wondered at the state of their beloved prince – now an orphan and set to inherit the succession._

 _No one knew of the heinous deception that lay before their eyes._

 _No one knew of the diabolical schemes brewing inside the mind of the man who stood in their midst, pretending to grieve like the rest._

 _But Fate has a funny way of messing with one's plans._

 _And the Sorcerer King had no idea that he had unwittingly turned the hands of Fate against him..._

* * *

Adrien didn't leave his mother's side for the duration of the funeral.

He kneeled in front of the grand altar, upon which the beautiful crystal coffin lay, while the priest gave his sacred eulogy. Adrien didn't pay attention to most of it. The only words that plagued him were the last words his mother ever said to him:

 _I'm not going anywhere. Not now, and not ever. The ones we love most always stay with us._ That _is our greatest strength, and it can never be torn apart._

Even when the procession was over and the mourners filed out of the royal chapel one by one, Adrien remained where he was. He made no attempt to move; spoke not a single word.

But the tears had no end, nor did the clenching pain in his heart.

It didn't make any sense to Adrien. The queen had been fine. She had been getting better. How could this have happened?

The morning the weeping serving girl had knocked on his bedroom door, Adrien refused to believe her words. He had practically knocked her aside as he raced to his mother's bedchamber, but by then King Reginald and his guards were already there.

"Adrien... don't," his stepfather had urged weakly, his voice strained with sadness.

But the prince had not listened as he forced his way through and peered over to where his mother lay on the grand bed.

And the moment he saw her, as perfectly still and serene as a marble statue, Adrien's knees turned to water. The next thing he knew, he was on the ground and his stepfather was holding him in a firm embrace.

The prince had barely spoken since then. Whenever people offered their condolences, Adrien simply nodded his head in thanks. His eyes were so red and swollen it was a miracle he could still cry.

Not even Plagg the cat could rouse him from his melancholy. All of the head-rubs and ear-scratches and cuddles were not enough to ease his owner's suffering. Eventually, Plagg scampered off to moan – and probably eat – in one of his own little private corners of the castle.

When her own attempts to reach him failed, Nathalie decided to comfort the boy in silence: staying by his side through the funeral, touching his back or his shoulder to let him know he was not alone...

But Adrien _was_ alone. More alone than he had ever felt before.

 _First Father, and now Mother._

He was the last of his bloodline; the last of the rightful kings and queens of Agreste. Adrien knew with a heavy heart what would happen once the time for mourning was over. The preparations for his coronation would begin, and Adrien would have to endure a series of gruelling traditions to ready himself for the day he would accept his grandfather's crown and recite the royal vows.

He grasped the white rose in his hand so hard that some of the thorns poked him. He didn't care. He welcomed the hurting. He had plenty of it to go around.

That is, until Adrien couldn't take the burning strain on his knees anymore, so he rose up to his feet, his legs shaken and stiff.

Nathalie was with him instantly. "Adrien?" It wasn't a question as much as it was an acknowledgement.

He acknowledged her as well. "I'm still here," he murmured, his tone far too grown-up.

The governess nodded with a poor attempt of a smile. "Can I...?" She sniffled and batted her eyes with her handkerchief. "Can I get you anything?"

Adrien glanced over at her and finally realized how pale and thin she was, like she had barely slept or eaten anything. _I probably look the same way_ , Adrien thought with a twang of guilt.

"No thank you, Nat," the prince said softly, trying his best to convince her with his eyes. "Go get some food and rest. I'll be all right."

 _Will I?_ some small part of him wondered. _Will anything ever be all right again?_

Nathalie brushed his cheek with her fingers – gods, they were so cold – and said, "Very well." Then she took one last look at her beloved queen before slipping down the aisle, her black dress dragging along the carpet.

And so Adrien was alone. The empty chapel seemed to echo the emptiness inside him.

He turned back to the crystal coffin and walked up to it.

Seeing his mother's face again, devoid of any life yet sparkling with pearlescent beauty, awoke something inside Adrien. It wasn't grief. It was anger.

He had to lose another parent. He had to be handed the keys to the kingdom when he was far from ready to be a king. He had to be the last hope for his people and lead them into times of happiness when his own happiness had been cruelly taken from him.

But then, like the flicker of one of the altar candles, the anger subsided, and Adrien cursed himself for being so selfish.

He couldn't blame anyone for any of that. And he knew he would always put the needs of his subjects before his own. His mother had raised him that way, and Adrien had always told himself that he would never become like his father.

 _You_ will _be king someday, Adrien. And you will be_ your own _kind of king – one who is brave, kind, smart... and who will love everyone and everything with all his heart._

Had it really been so long ago since Queen Vivienne had spoken those words to her son?

Adrien wiped his eyes on his sleeve and placed the white rose on the lid of the coffin. He wished he could open the thing up and give his mother one last kiss goodbye, but words would have to suffice.

"Goodbye, Mother," the prince whispered, and a tear dripped onto the crystal lid, glinting like a jewel.

That's when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Adrien turned around and saw a sorrowful, silver face looking at him.

"I'm so sorry, Adrien," King Reginald said.

The prince lowered his head as he fought to hold back that strain in his throat. "I loved her so much," he whimpered.

A pair of arms wrapped around him and stroked his head. "So did I, son," Reginald said as he rocked his stepson back and forth. "So did I."

Adrien returned the hug and squeezed his teary eyes shut as he rested his head against the king's shoulder.

They held each other in silence for a long moment, and then Reginald broke off the embrace and placed both hands on Adrien's shoulders.

Adrien sniffled and looked up into his stepfather's eyes with helplessness. "What am I going to do, Reg?" he asked between hard swallows. "I'm not ready for this."

The king nodded sadly. "I know, but it will get better. You'll see." He affixed the prince with a solemn gaze. "I may only be your father by marriage, but I want you to know that I'm here for you, Adrien. And I promise you... I will do everything in my power to set things right."

The prince blinked for a moment, and then smiled.

 _I'm not alone. Not entirely._

Adrien pulled his stepfather into another hug, this time with more assurance. "Thank you," he said. "I'm glad I can always count on you, Reg."

The king hummed with pleasure. "And I'm glad you feel that way, my boy," he muttered with a deepened tone. "More than anything."

* * *

It wasn't until Hawkmoth reached the privacy of his chambers when he finally wiped the slimy sympathy off his face and let out a low, guttural growl.

A purple-and-black-clad figure stood off to the side, unmoving like a suit of armour. But he lifted his head the moment his master stomped into the room.

"How did it go?" Nino asked, the brown eyes behind his glasses vacant and grim.

The king wrenched his gloves off. "One down, one to go," he said as he strode over to the long couch by the warm fireplace. "Though I will admit, that was the most exhausting facade I've ever had to wear." He sat himself down on the couch with a heavy sigh.

All the while, the huntsman stood watching him, awaiting further orders. There was no trace of hatred or even recognition on his face.

Hawkmoth was glad of it. The _akuma_ butterfly he had merged with the boy's heart had worked its wonders. Like the handful of Akuma Guards the king had already created, Nino had no memory of his past, except for the fact that he was a huntsman – a stone-cold killer who lived to serve his king.

The transformation spell still needed some working out, but the Sorcerer King was pleased with the results nonetheless. _Now I have the perfect tool I need to get rid of Gabriel's pathetic little spawn_ , he thought with a dark grin.

"He has no idea that his mother isn't even dead," he mused, "or that _I'm_ the one who put her under a sleeping curse." Then Hawkmoth's mouth pulled into a disgusted frown. "He actually sought comfort from me. It was... _sickening_." He glanced up forebodingly at the dark-skinned huntsman. "I wanted to end his miserable existence right there."

Nino blinked at him. "Why didn't you?" he asked in a bored manner.

Hawkmoth leaned back in his couch. Though the huntsman was now under his control, it was still too risky to reveal the truth about Gabriel's protection spell to anyone.

So the king merely said, "I have my reasons. Chief among them: my stepson is beloved by all in the kingdom, and so they remain staunchly loyal to him. They would turn on me in a heartbeat." Then he straightened and smiled slyly at his new servant. "I need someone who won't be blinded by that. Someone without compassion and regret. I need a huntsman."

Nino stepped forward like a soldier. "What would you have me do, my master?"

Hawkmoth rose up and met the boy's cold eyes. "I'm going to suggest to Adrien that he go out and pick wildflowers for his mother's grave," he explained. "And I will insist that he take you along for... _protection_."

Then the king tapped into the magic of his amethyst brooch, enjoying the flow of power rushing through him. How he missed this!

"Take the boy into the Enchanted Forest," Hawkmoth commanded to Nino. "Find a place where no one will find you; where he can't call for help. And there, my faithful huntsman..." He walked over to Nino and finished with a wicked purr, "You will kill the prince and bring me his lifeless heart for my collection."

The outline of a sharp-looking butterfly – glowing with the same purple magic as the brooch – appeared over the huntsman's eyes.

And without so much as a flinch or a crease of fear, Nino smiled with pride and said, "It would be my pleasure, my master."

Hawkmoth let out a deep yet silent laugh.

Oh, how he wished he could see Adrien's face when he would face his death at the hands of his most trusted friend!

 _So much for love_ , the king thought with a sneer.

* * *

Nino kept his eyes on the prince the entire trip.

No, _Adrien_. He had to address him as "Adrien". Not "Your Highness" or "my prince", because that would raise suspicion. Nino's master had told him as much.

 _And when the time comes, don't hesitate. He will try to persuade you to spare him, but this is only a trick. I want him dead, huntsman, and I want his heart. No foul-ups, no exceptions._

Nino and the prince – _Adrien_ , damn you – had ridden out on horseback from Castle Agreste earlier that afternoon. By the time they reached the borders of the Enchanted Forest, it was well into the evening.

The smells of tree sap, bark and dirt soothed the huntsman's senses. He couldn't quite explain it, but the forest felt like home for him.

He kept his eye on Adrien as they dismounted. Both of them were dressed in brown riding leathers. They had no need for cloaks because of the hot weather, and Adrien's stepfather had insisted that – for the prince's own "safety" – they travel as commoners.

 _A prince and his hunting partner were strolling through the woods_ , Nino rehearsed the story in his head while he untied his bow and quiver from his saddle-pack. _Then, out of nowhere, they were attacked by wolves or a wild boar. They jumped the prince and tore into him before the huntsman could save him._

Whether or not anyone would believe the story was none of Nino's concern. He had an order to fulfill, and he was not going to disappoint his master.

Adrien heaved his metal quarterstaff and satchel off his stallion. "Maybe while we're here," he suggested with a faint smile, "you can catch us a couple rabbits... or a stag, if we're lucky."

Nino smirked and padded the handles of his twin hatchets together. "Don't worry," he said, "I have no intention of going back to the castle empty-handed."

A part of him wished he had convinced the prince to come unarmed, but that too would have aroused suspicion. What man in their right mind went into a mysterious forest without a means of defending himself? _Well, at least he doesn't have a sword_ , Nino thought as he followed Adrien into the deep brush of evergreens.

As they walked through the giant maze of trees, Adrien would break off from the trail now and then to collect flowers: white trilliums, dogwoods, violets, azaleas, and even a few lovely-looking ferns. Whatever came his way, Adrien would pluck it from the ground and place it carefully inside his satchel.

Nino watched him inquisitively the entire time, making note of the prince's movements: how he walked, whether he was left or right handed (it was right), and if there were any signs of weakness or open areas the huntsman could exploit. The sooner he got this done, the better.

 _Should I knock him out first, or just bury my hatchet in his neck and get it over with?_ Then again, people at the palace other than the king might question Nino if he came back covered in blood. _I'll have to make it quick and less-messy. Maybe a good strangulation from behind will work._

Occasionally, Adrien would glance over his shoulder at Nino and smile. The huntsman forced himself to smile back, though it felt exceedingly strange to see the prince look at him that way. If Nino truly was a cold-blooded killer, wouldn't Adrien be a little more... apprehensive and distant?

Instead, the prince kept spewing out stories involving his mother. The worst were when Adrien asked Nino if he remembered certain things they used to do together. Nino would just shrug and say things like, "How could I not?" or "You know it better than I do."

All the while, something uncomfortable gnawed at the back of Nino's mind. _The prince knows me, or at least he claims to... but why don't I know him? Surely I would remember..._

A sharp, jabbing pain in his skull made him wince. His master's voice repeated his command, and Nino sighed through his nose.

 _What does it matter? My master said the boy needs to die, whatever the reason._

"I'd like to visit the Summer Palace again soon," Adrien blabbered on as he finished stuffing a few bits of wild rose into his satchel. Then he wiped sweat off his brow. "It might not be the same anymore, but... It'd be a way of remembering her." He paused and sat down against a tree trunk, tossing his staff and sack on the ground.

Nino joined him, noting how uncharacteristically open this prince was being with him.

They both took swigs from their water pouches before Adrien continued, "You should come with me – you, Nathalie and Reginald. We could go down to the pier where she used to show us the stars, and we can..." His green eyes softened and he shrugged. "I don't know. It's just a thought."

Nino just stared at the prince. This was perfect – him with his back against a tree, out of quick reach of his staff. _Now_ , the huntsman thought, _I should do it now while he's oblivious._ He started to lift his hatchets...

... until Adrien emerged from his sack with two red apples.

"Catch," the prince said as he tossed one of them to Nino.

The huntsman snatched it up and stared at it for a long moment. Why would a prince bother to pack food for a servant? That didn't add up.

Adrien took a huge bite from his apple, chewed thoughtfully, and then swallowed. All the while, he kept staring at his companion. "Is everything all right, Nino?" he asked kindly. "You've been awfully quiet."

Nino cleared his throat. "I'm fine. I'm just not hungry," he said much too quickly.

The prince didn't take his eyes off of him. "I didn't see you at the funeral," he noted.

"The king kept me on duty."

"Huh..." Adrien was giving him a look that made the huntsman tense.

There was a moment of shaky silence and suspicious stares between them. Nino wondered if he should try to act more casual.

Then Adrien spoke softly again, "You know, my mother once told me that she considered you as a second son."

Nino tried to hide the surprise on his face, only it made him look like he was passing gas. "I... I'm grateful for that," he muttered.

But the prince wasn't finished. "You also used to say we were like your adoptive family," he said, his brow and his voice lowering deeper.

"Did I? Well..."

"And yet..." Adrien's green eyes now became sharp and hard. "... you've never _once_ offered me your condolences."

Nino swallowed. "My condolences," he uttered hastily.

Adrien straightened up and glanced at the huntsman's hatchets, his quiver, and the knife at his belt. "And that's quite a lot of weapons you're bringing for one evening out in the woods," he mused warily. "What do you think you'll be hunting: a pack of wolves?"

 _Funny he should mention wolves_. "I'm just worried for your safety, Adrien, and so is the king," Nino argued.

Now Adrien was stepping away... towards his fallen staff, Nino noted.

"No," he stated, his friendliness shifting into apprehension. "If Reginald was ever worried about me, he always sent three or four guards to escort me. But he... he sent _you_." Those green eyes of his blinked in deep realization. "He _insisted_ that I bring you. _Only_ you. To take me all the way out _here_. Alone."

 _Damn it_.

Nino dropped his apple and glared over at the prince, his fingers clenching the wooden handles of his hatchets roughly.

Now Adrien was shaking his head in denial. "Nino..." he said. "Please tell me I'm just being paranoid. Please tell me you didn't bring me here to... to _kill_ me."

 _You will kill the prince and bring me his lifeless heart for my collection._

Nino felt his eyes pulsing with magic, and he grumbled cruelly, "I don't take orders from _you_."

* * *

Adrien gasped at the sight of the purple butterfly-like... _thing_ forming around Nino's eyes.

 _Magic!_

And from that wicked smirk on his best friend's face, it was definitely not the good kind.

So Adrien did the only thing he could: he dove for his staff.

 _THWISH!_

A hatchet zoomed forward and embedded itself in the ground... right between the staff and the prince's outstretched hand.

Adrien jerked away. But the moment he snapped back to Nino, the huntsman collided with his middle.

They both fell with a hard thud in the dirt, and Nino landed right on top of him. He pinned the prince down and pressed the blade of his second hatchet against Adrien's throat.

Adrien stared up at Nino with wide, disbelieving eyes. He tried to kick out or roll his friend off, but Nino was surprisingly stronger than him. _Either he's been working out, which I doubt, or it's the magic strengthening him! Probably the latter!_

Well, fighting wasn't going to help him now. He needed a new weapon... and a distraction.

"Nino," Adrien pleaded deeply, all the while reaching out for something – anything! – that could save him. "This isn't you! We're friends, remember? Don't you see you're being bewitched?"

The boy who was not his friend snorted. "My master said you'd try to persuade me," he mused darkly. "He also told me to cut out your heart. And like I said before..." He dug his blade harder. "I'm not going back empty-handed."

Panic and confusion flooded Adrien's veins.

"And now," Nino continued, "you're trapped and have no weapon."

Realizing he was out of time, Adrien clenched a fist in the soft dirt beside him, scooping up a handful of earth in the process.

Then, the prince's mouth curled up into a feline grin. "You sure about that?" he asked.

Before Nino could ponder what he meant by that, Adrien flung the dirt into the huntsman's eyes.

Nino let out an angry, "Gah!" and leaned away from him, unwittingly taking his weight off the prince's arms.

Adrien seized his chance and landed his friend a good punch in the jaw, sending the huntsman rolling off him.

Scrambling to his feet, Adrien scooped up his wayward staff and sprinted as fast as he could through the maze of trees.

Behind him, he heard an inhuman roar of rage... and Adrien ran faster.

* * *

Night fell, and the Enchanted Forest slipped into shadow. A pale, cloud-covered moon shined like a silver coin in the sky.

Adrien could barely see where he was going. He kept stumbling over an exposed root or a rock. He winced from a few scrapes and bruises, but he forced himself to keep going.

He didn't want to run – he shouldn't _have_ to run – but he knew it was either that or get his heart cut out. By his own best friend, of all people.

Adrien panted heavily. He was so thirsty, so tired, and so lost.

And yet, he was so sure of himself.

The purple butterfly was _Reginald's_ sigil. The shape that had appeared on Nino's face was _exactly_ like the one Adrien remembered from his stepfather's coat-of-arms.

From there, the pieces of the puzzle came together.

Reginald was a sorcerer. He bewitched Nino to kill Adrien. He probably killed Queen Vivienne himself.

And there was only one reason why: he wanted the throne. Maybe... it's what he wanted all along, the moment he rescued Adrien from that horse nine years ago.

All of these thoughts and presumptions swam in Adrien's mind as he ran on. And the more he thought about it, the more he stopped doubting it.

 _Reginald had striven to gain my trust. He tutored me, supported me, comforted me..._

 _... until he had no use for me anymore._

He should be angry. He should be venting his grief and rage at the revelation of this betrayal.

But that would have to come later. Right now, he was trying not to get killed.

 _WHIZZ! TCHT!_

Something struck one of the trees beside Adrien. An arrow!

 _Shit!_ The prince picked up the pace, glancing over his shoulder.

Like a phantom on the blue-gray horizon, a figure ran towards him with a bow in hand.

Adrien really wasn't surprised. Nino was one of the best hunters in the kingdom. He could track a squirrel in the dead of night. Adrien wished he had sharper senses too. At least then he would stop tripping over himself.

As another arrow streaked past his head, Adrien contemplated his options.

He couldn't fight Nino, even if he wanted to. For one thing, the huntsman was now imbued with magical strength. For another thing, Adrien could never bring himself to hurt the boy who had been a brother to him all these years.

He could _talk_ to Nino; try to bring him to his senses. Only Adrien had tried that already, and his friend hadn't looked the slightest bit neglectful. Whoever it was chasing after the prince now, it was not Nino. _He probably doesn't know who I am._

And if Adrien was right and Reginald really was responsible for all this...

 _Nino said Reginald wants my heart._

Adrien didn't need to ask himself what his stepfather might do to Nino if he returned empty-handed. Reginald had already taken his mother, hadn't he?

There was only one way to end this.

* * *

When Nino finally caught up to his quarry, he was surprised to see Adrien sitting up against a fallen tree, completely out on the open.

The huntsman emerged from the bushes and squinted at the haggard prince. Adrien's face was stained with dirt and oil, with a couple of red scratches here and there. When the prince looked up at Nino, his green eyes seemed to glow in the moonlight. All the huntsman saw was calm resolve – not a single trace of fear or deception.

"Hmph," Nino huffed as he stepped towards Adrien. "Finally decided to make my job easy for me, did you?"

The prince was still breathless when he replied, "You've always been faster and better than me. Besides..." Adrien's face softened with something like empathy. "I know that if I live and you don't bring the king my heart, he'll kill you in anger. And I can't bear the thought of losing you like I lost my mother."

There it was again: that selflessness, that compassion... Nino couldn't understand it. Who would care about the well-being of a huntsman?

He could feel his master's command echoing in the darkness of his mind. Now was the time.

Nino loomed over Adrien, his shadow spreading all over the prince. "Why should you give a damn about what happens to me?" he demanded sharply. "You think I'm going to feel sorry for you after I kill you?"

Adrien shook his head expressionlessly. "Of course not," he said, "but _Nino_ would. And if he's still in there somewhere, then I can't think of a better way to die than to protect the life of my most trusted friend in the world."

 _If you truly care for the prince like I know you do... you'll do whatever it takes to protect him._

Nino blinked feverishly, his temples throbbing. _What the hell was_ that _?_

Then, to his surprise, Adrien heaved himself up to his knees and just kneeled there right before the huntsman.

"I just have one favour to ask of you," the prince spoke as boldly as he could. "When you give my stepfather my heart, tell him... that I hope my death – that my _sacrifice_ – will allow him to rule my mother's subjects as they deserve: with compassion and a gentle hand." Adrien's eyes seemed to glisten, even in Nino's shadow. "With that in mind, I welcome the end."

Nino stared at him with an open mouth.

Adrien removed the hard leather vest and tossed it aside, exposing his brown, cotton tunic underneath. "So go ahead," he said, spreading his arms beside him. "Just promise me you'll make it quick and painless, for _both_ our sakes."

 _If you truly care for the prince like I know you do... you'll do whatever it takes to protect him._

Nino grunted and lifted one of his hatchets above the prince's chest.

As he did so, Adrien closed his eyes as though he were going to sleep. A single tear cleaved a way down his filthy cheek, leaving a clean line.

 _If you truly care for the prince like I know you do... you'll do whatever it takes to protect him._

That strange voice was louder now, and more resilient, as though it meant the word to Nino.

The huntsman gritted his teeth, and sweat beaded down his brow. _What am I doing? My master said not to hesitate..._

That dark voice was shouting its command now, but it was starting to fade away like a trumpeter on horseback: _You will kill the prince and... and bring his... his lifeless heart... heart..._

He could feel the magic rattling his brain, scraping against his skull like a clawed hand. It hurt so much it made Nino groan.

Then Adrien opened his eyes and whispered, "Nino?"

At the sound of his name, the huntsman stared down into those calm fields of green.

 _I can't bear the thought of losing you... can't think of a better way to die... my most trusted friend in the world..._

 _If you truly care for the prince like I know you do... you'll do whatever it takes to protect him._

Protect him.

Not kill – protect!

With defiant yell that sent birds in the treetops scattering away, Nino flung the hatchet with all his might.

At the same time, the grip on his mind released, and he fell to the ground with a sigh.

* * *

Adrien immediately squeezed his eyes shut as Nino shrieked maddeningly and drew his hand back further.

He waited for the sharp slice of the blade.

But then, not far from where he knelt, Adrien heard the juddering sound of something being driven into wood.

He took a breath. He was still alive.

And then, he heard the sound of a body slumping to the ground.

Snapping his eyes open, and blinking from the sudden moonlight, Adrien gasped at the sight of a fallen figure lying in front of him.

"Nino!" he cried as he crawled over and rolled the huntsman onto his back. When Nino refused to lift an eyelid, Adrien shook him by the shoulders and batted him on the cheek. "Nino, wake up! Come on, man – open your eyes!"

After a few short seconds, Nino groaned and swatted him away with a feeble hand. "Dude! Knock it off already, will you? That hurts."

Yep, that was _definitely_ Nino!

Adrien let out an exasperated sigh and heaved the huntsman up before pulling him into a brotherly hug.

It wasn't long before Nino returned the gesture.

And it wasn't long after _that_ before the young hunter began to tremble in the prince's arms. It took a second for Adrien to realize that Nino was crying.

Then his friend moaned, "I'm sorry... It wasn't... I tried... I'm _so_ sorry..."

Adrien just smiled and kept saying, "I know. It's all right. I forgive you."

And when the prince and the huntsman finally finished reassuring themselves, Nino told Adrien everything he had learned.

And though neither of them knew it then, the truth awoke something new inside Adrien. Something fierce, but determined... like a young house cat finally willing to stretch out his claws and take his first steps out into the wild.

* * *

 **MB: This chapter wasn't easy... but I did it all in one day! HA!**

 **Also, I've decided to split the three mini stories into six chapters instead of five like I originally intended. I just couldn't fit it all into five without making one or two chapters extra long.**

 **So, yeah... one more chapter for "The Silver Lining", and then its on to the second prequel story!**


	6. The Silver Lining: Cat's Out of the Bag

**THE SILVER LINING**

 _ **Chapter 6:**_

 _ **The Cat's Out of the Bag**_

 _A truth is like a coin._

 _On one side, you find clarity and peace._

 _On the other side, you find denial and pain._

 _Depending on how you find it, you never know which side it will end on._

 _A lie is like a scale._

 _The heavier the lie, the greater the revelation._

 _And a lie that has been kept for a long time is the heaviest weight of all..._

* * *

The summer sun was cold.

There was barely any wind in the trees, but Adrien still felt a great chill all around him, leaving goosebumps on his arms. Maybe it was the hard spot in his chest that was sucking all the warmth from his skin.

He had barely slept at all last night. He could still taste the ash in his mouth from the fire pit he and Nino had built. He could still feel his cheeks burning from when the huntsman had told his story. He could still hear the cracking of the flames, which may or may not have been his spirit cracking all the way down to the bone.

Now, Adrien sat mutely on a wooden log with Nino, the two of them finishing off the pack of dried meat for their breakfast. A few rays of sunlight seeped through the forest canopy, and the prince tried to steal any shred of warmth his thin muscles could cling to.

All that time, a new truth dawned on him.

"I have to leave the kingdom," Adrien finally said.

Nino tipped his head in a solemn nod. "I figured you'd say that".

Adrien turned to him. "But I can't leave Reg–" He stopped himself with clenched teeth. "... _Hawkmoth_ on the throne and let him destroy everything my parents built."

Nino's mouth curled up and he straightened in his spot. "I figured you'd say that too," he said. "Where do you suggest we start?"

Adrien let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know." He gazed into the dying embers of the fire, and his face fell with guilt. "Honestly, I still don't know what to believe anymore. I mean... My stepfather is the same mad sorcerer who killed my father. My mother is trapped under some curse of living death. And now, Hawkmoth will stop at nothing to get my heart."

As he looked up at his friend again, the prince's eyes glistened with hurt. "And the worst part?" he offered. "I have no proof to expose him with; no magical powers or troops to fight him with." Adrien rested his below on his knee and buried his forehead in his palm. "I have _nothing_."

No crown, no home, no family... Adrien felt like he had been stripped naked of everything he knew and loved, and left in the open to rot.

Then, Nino glanced heavenward and put a finger on his chin. "True, true, true and... _false_ ," he stated.

Adrien lifted his head up at the huntsman confusedly.

"You may not have an arsenal or an army," Nino explained with a strange bravado in his tone, "but that doesn't mean you have _nothing_. In fact..." he added with a smile, "if you want _my_ opinion, you've got something Mothball doesn't: a heart."

Adrien couldn't help but snort. "Seriously?" he groaned. "That's the best motivational speech you could come up with?"

Nino shrugged. "Well, I _did_ just lose my mind a moment ago."

Now both of them were laughing. Adrien was amazed he could laugh at all, and now that throb inside of him felt more like a small, innocuous ache.

On the bright side, Nino seemed like he was back to his old self again.

"My point is..." the huntsman continued as he wrapped an arm around his friend's shoulders, "You care about your mother, and you care about your people too, right? And I don't need to remind you what kind of ruler that psychopathic charm-caster is going to be." Nino gave Adrien an earnest look, like he was some kind of hero in a storybook. "Everyone's going to need you now more than ever, Adrien. If you help them, then you won't need _magic_ to beat step-daddio – just need everything you've already got."

As Adrien stared off into space, he remembered how his mother had to take the reins of the kingdom after his father died. Despite her grief, she was willing to put aside her feelings for the good of all.

Then, Adrien remembered one of the queen's most important lessons: love can overcome anything.

His mother was waiting for him now, in whatever dream she was in, probably fighting to return to her son.

No way in the three kingdoms was Adrien going to give up on her.

And no way in _hell_ would he allow others to suffer from his stepfather's betrayal.

Adrien's brow furrowed and he rose from his spot. "You're right, Nino," he said to his companion with newfound resolve. Then he picked off his quarterstaff from where it lay on the ground and gripped it firmly in front of him. "As long as I can fight back, there's still a chance I can fix all of this."

Something like pride flickered in Nino's brown eyes. "If that's your decision," he said, standing up to meet his partner eye-to-eye, "then I'm with you. And this time, I will do everything in my power to protect you."

To Adrien's bafflement, Nino crossed his arms over his chest and bowed. It was the standard salute amongst the Agrestian Guard.

"Only by your command..." Nino began.

Adrien felt himself turning red. "Nino, you don't have to –"

"Hey, let me finish – I've always wanted to do this," the huntsman quipped with a playful scowl up at the prince. Then he lowered his head again and stated, "Only by your command or the hands of death shall this vow be broken. My life and sword are yours." Nino smirked and added, "Or... hatchets, in my case."

Adrien shook his head with a smile. He knew Nino wasn't saying this just for kicks. Almost killing your best friend left quite a stain on your conscience, one that the huntsman was more than eager to wipe off as best as he could.

The prince simply took solace in the fact that he still had someone left he could trust.

"All right. I accept your vow," Adrien grumbled as he extended his hand to his friend. "Rise, Nino the Huntsman, Protector of Princes."

Nino chuckled and allowed the prince to hoist him up. " _That's_ the other thing we need to talk about," he admitted sheepishly. "Hawkmoth made it pretty clear that he wants you dead. He's going to come after both of us once he finds out you're still ticking – I bet my good throwing arm on it. If we want to get a healthy head start, we need to make him think that you're dead. We need to give him a heart."

Something in those words gave Adrien an idea.

It wasn't going to be easy, but for the sake of the kingdom, he knew it had to be done.

Agreste didn't need a king. It needed a guardian, a champion of the people; a warrior who worked in the shadows to preserve the light.

"I agree," the prince said, his green eyes gleaming with a mischievous scheme. "Prince Adrien needs to die."

* * *

Hawkmoth was aware of the Akuma Guards staring at him as he paced around in his chambers, his cane tapping angrily along the tiled floor.

Not that they could say or do anything about it, but it bothered the king anyway.

 _It's been two nights_ , he thought feverishly, _and still nothing._

Something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

It had all started the previous night. Hawkmoth was in the midst of ordering Queen Vivienne's crystal case to be moved to the catacombs... when he had felt something strange in the back of his mind – a ribbon of magic being snipped in two before fading into nothingness.

At first, the Sorcerer King couldn't figure out what it had meant. But as the hours passed on with no word from the huntsman, Hawkmoth wondered if that strange feeling was somehow related to this exceedingly-long delay.

Finally, as the moon disappeared beyond a shroud of storm clouds, Hawkmoth heard footsteps down the hall.

He turned just as an Akuma Guard with a thorn-encrusted helmet – one of his commanders – approached him, carrying a wooden box under his arm.

Not the huntsman. The man's chin was the colour of orange cream.

Hawkmoth tried not to appear concerned as he growled, "Report."

"My squad and I happened upon two stallions fleeing the Enchanted Forest, my master," the commander stated. "They were rider-less and still had their saddle-packs, so it's possible something spooked them. Then, while combing the edge of the woods, we found traces of the huntsman's uniform amidst a pile of bloody bones. From the tracks we found, it seems he was devoured by a pack of wolves while making his way back here."

The king's eyebrows lifted up with intrigue. "So he's dead," he murmured. Then he brushed it off like a stray feather. "One less annoying flaw to worry about." He strode up to the Akuma Guard. "What about the prince?" he asked with a grazed tone.

The commander shook his head and replied, "No sign of him, my master. But we did find _this_ buried underneath the huntsman's remains." He presented Hawkmoth with the wooden box.

The king's enhanced senses smelled it immediately: dried blood and rotting flesh.

Hawkmoth's blue eyes lit up with elation. "Give it to me," he ordered breathlessly.

The Akuma handed it right over and watched wordlessly as his master undid the latch and lifted the lid.

And there it was: a fat, lifeless heart drenched in clotted blood – motionless and silent as the grave.

Hawkmoth grinned, his teeth flashing cruelly. "At least the prince's heart is in the right place now," he mused with a dark chuckle. Without looking at his commander, he said, "Leave me, and speak nothing of this or the prince to anyone."

The Akuma nodded and marched from the chamber.

Now the king was left alone in his triumphant glee. He felt like a child on Winter Solstice being given the best present in the world.

"At long last, Gabriel my old friend," he whispered to the heart, "you have failed. Now I have your precious son." He strode over eagerly towards the secret room. "And with it, my revenge."

Once the door slid open, Hawkmoth walked up to the far wall, where he kept the hearts of all his previous victims – some alive, some not. Now he had one more trophy to add to his stash.

With a wicked smirk, Hawkmoth picked up the slimy, dead heart and held it out towards the wall.

Nothing happened.

The king blinked and waved the heart in front of the golden boxes. None of them opened.

Confusion turned to panic. "It should open..." Hawkmoth muttered, unable to comprehend what was happening – or rather, what was _not_ happening.

The wall was enchanted to accept any human heart he presented to it.

Hawkmoth stared at the organ in his hands. Now that he thought about it, it was slightly different than all the hearts he had collected over the years. For one thing, it was abnormally larger. Too large for a human.

The king's eyes flared with rage, and the wooden box fell to the floor with a clatter. "No... _No!_ " he growled. "It's not his heart! It's not a _human_ heart!"

His thoughts exploded with questions, but only one mattered to him: " _What did he do?!_ "

Then, he felt it: the thrum of magic pulsing from behind him.

Hawkmoth snapped around and was amazed to see his magic mirror – the one that had taken Nooroo – glowing with an eerie blue light.

 _Of course_. The king had asked a question, and the mirror was answering.

The king stomped out of his laboratory and glared at his reflection in the mirror. "Show me!" he demanded.

The glass surface blotted itself out with dark, inky smoke... and then it pulled away, revealing a bright, moving image within its folds.

Hawkmoth's silver face rippled with shock and fury. "NO!" he roared, startling his two Akuma Guards at the doorway. "This can't be!"

And yet, the scene was right there before his eyes:

The boy was alive. The huntsman was no longer an Akuma. The two of them were wrestling with a fat, pink, shrieking creature on the ground before the dark boy's hatchet ended its struggling.

There was still daylight in the vision, which meant this had happened earlier. The prince and his noble friend were no doubt long gone by now... and out of Hawkmoth's reach.

The Sorcerer King's black heart pounded with such a frenzy he almost couldn't breathe. He glared down at the worthless heart in his hands and squeezed it.

But only living hearts could crumble to dust. The dead ones just went all squishy like cold bags of meat.

With bared teeth, Hawkmoth yelled, "Did they really think they could fool me with the heart of a wild pig?! FOOLS!" He threw the dead heart with all his might into the adjacent wall, where it fell with a sickening splatter.

He could almost hear a woman's voice laughing at him, taunting him.

 _You underestimate the power of love, but I'm sure you'll learn that soon enough._

"No," Hawkmoth murmured as he willed his breathing to slow to a hiss-like growl. He didn't waste nearly two decades just to come up short in the end.

He turned back to the mirror, where the golden-haired prince was staring off somewhere with a combined mixture of sorrow and hope.

"I wanted the prince's heart," the king spoke as he placed a hand on his amethyst brooch, "and a heart I shall have."

At his command, a trail of purple magic emerged from the jewel and orbited around the king. It made him stronger, his senses sharper, and his anger hotter. Hatred was his power, but he only had so much within himself. He needed the hatred of others to feed on; the negativity of the weak and misguided to enhance his magic.

 _And once I have all the power I need_ , the king thought as thunder roiled from outside, _my greatest wish will finally come true, and not even the prince will stand a chance against me!_

No more games, no more pretending. Lord Hawkmoth had finally returned.

The king raised his arms, and he glowed like a meteor with all that dark magic flowing through him. "One way or another, Adrien, you will be mine!" Hawkmoth declared. "And until that day comes, everyone you love – and anyone who comes to love you – will suffer for this outrage!"

And with that evil vow, a bolt of purple lighting cracked over Castle Agreste.

* * *

A boy dressed entirely in black stood out in the field of long grass, holding his metal quarterstaff as he gazed at the thundering castle in the distance.

His green eyes hardened. He imagined the king who now ruled from there, no doubt plotting to unleash his restrained dark powers at last.

He imagined the queen who lay imprisoned in her crystal coffin, doomed to forever sleep.

He imagined the common-folk with tears in their eyes once they received word of their prince's tragic accident. Or perhaps the king would say it was another grievous murder.

Either way, the prince was never coming back. At least, not for a while.

For now, Cat Noir would see the prince's justice done, whatever it took.

His eyes softened with longing, and he whispered into the harsh wind, "I will find a way to free you, Mother. And when I do, we'll take him down together. Until then..." He offered a brave smile and blew a gentle kiss towards the castle. "I'll see you soon."

The wind whistled around him and carried that promise away.

Then, Cat Noir heard a faint rustling behind him.

He turned to see Nino, wearing the new hunting garb he had chosen from that village caravan they stole from.

Cat Noir knew that stealing would have to become a habit now, and reminded himself that it was not just to protect himself, but to help him protect others as well. If anyone ever found out the truth about his identity, they would be punished. Cat Noir couldn't risk that. As far as he was concerned, there was no Prince Adrien anymore.

"Where to next?" Nino asked.

Cat Noir grinned and pulled his black hood over his head. _That_ , he would have to get used to as well. "Why don't you lead the way this time, huntsman?" he offered with a grand sweep of his arm. "I trust your judgement."

Nino nodded proudly. "The forest it is, then!" he declared. "Follow me, and keep your eyes open."

As his friend sprinted towards the safety of the Enchanted Forest, Cat Noir took one last glance at the castle... and the billowing purple and blue clouds surrounding it.

 _A storm is coming_ , the new thief thought without a trace of fear, _but I'll be ready for it._

"Good luck trying to catch me, Hawkmoth," Cat Noir uttered cockily. "You're going to need all of it."

And with that, he turned and chased after Nino into the trees, his black cloak rippling in his wake.

And as he ran, the leaves and branches seemed to whisper his new name amongst each other, willing it into existence like a spell:

 _Cat Noir..._

* * *

 _Beneath every rock, there is a diamond._

 _Within every person, there is a heart._

 _Beyond every cloud, there is a sun._

 _And at the end of every tragic story, there is a silver lining._

 _In this case, it was the fact that when the darkness finally spread across the kingdom of Agreste, a faint ray of hope remained to keep the evil at bay._

 _And that ray of hope would eventually grow bigger, to push back the dark storm and bring back the sun._

 _But that tale does not need repeating here._

 _And if it does, then one only needs to look back in this text, and read it for themselves._

– _Signed,_ _ **Lord Nathaniel of Kurtzberg**_

 _Master Bard and Chronicler of Agreste_

 _Official Member of the Queen's Royal Council_

 _Former Member of the Seven Bandits_

* * *

 **MB: The first mini prequel is done! The next chapter will be the beginning of the second story, which will deal with Alya, Nino and the origins of the Seven Bandits.**

 **So don't bug out just yet, folks - there's plenty more to come!**


	7. Of Monsters and Magic: The Fox's Catch

**OF MONSTERS AND MAGIC**

 _ **Chapter 1:**_

 _ **The Fox's Catch**_

 _Once upon a time, a huntsman was tricked by an evil king to cut out the heart of a young prince._

 _But when the moment came to carry out the deed, the huntsman – driven by his love for his best friend – refused to kill him._

 _The evil king's enchantment was broken, but a darker spell was beginning to fall over the land._

 _Now marked for death, the huntsman and the prince stole away into the Enchanted Forest._

 _But though his heart was in the right place once again, the huntsman carried the heavy weight of his mistake within him like a stone._

 _And it would take a magic unlike any other to lift that stone out of him..._

* * *

A howl swept through the forest like a sudden chill, startling the two mercenaries.

Up in the treetops, Nino jerked. A branch brushed against his back, but he forced himself to remain still, holding his breath and keeping his sharp brown eyes on his brutish pursuers below.

One of them – a man with too many scars and a heavy, black beard – snapped around feverishly. "Wha' waszat?" he mumbled to his companion. "A wolf?"

The other mercenary, whose bulging eyes reminded Nino of a frog, shook his head with concern. "Wolves don't hunt alone. Probably just a stray mutt."

The howl sounded again – closer, this time.

The bearded man stiffened. "Really?" he asked with a shaky voice. "Never heard a mutt sound like _that_ before."

"Oh, quit yer whinin'," his partner growled as he scanned the forest floor for footprints. "I'm not wastin' m'time worryin' about phantoms and wolves when I could be worryin' about gettin' paid. Now c'mon – those two boys couldn't have gotten far."

With that, the two mercenaries trekked on through the brush and out of sight.

Nino counted the seconds. _One my darling, two my darling, three my darling..._

As soon as he reached fifty "my darlings", the huntsman shimmied out of the canopy and climbed down the ladder of wayward branches. Once his feet touched solid ground, Nino did a double-take of his surroundings. Mercenaries may not be very smart, but they were determined... especially when it came to gold.

Satisfied, Nino looked up to the tree across from his and gave a bird-like whistle.

Leaves shook from above. Twigs snapped. There was some grumbling and cursing.

Then Cat Noir clamoured ungracefully down the tree, only to lose his footing and slide the rest of the way. Nino tried not to laugh as his friend landed hard on his bottom in the dirt. His metal quarterstaff followed.

"Smooth," the huntsman jeered as he grasped Cat Noir's hand and heaved him up. "You know, cats are technically supposed to land on –"

"Yeah, yeah, I know," the black-clad thief groaned as he stretched his sore muscles. "I'll have to work on that part." His face relaxed, but his green eyes flashed with worry in the moonlight. "Do you think we lost them?"

Nino nodded. "Those fake prints I made worked like a charm, but it's not going to take them long to figure out that they've been duped."

Cat Noir picked up his staff before glancing in the direction of the mercenaries. "I wonder why they were so bent on catching us," he said.

"Not _us_ ," Nino clarified as he pulled a folded sheet of parchment out of his tunic. " _You_."

The huntsman watched sombrely as his best friend pulled the parchment apart and read it. Then Cat Noir's eyes flared with something Nino had never seen before: hatred.

"Son of a bitch," Cat Noir hissed as he tore the wanted poster to shreds with a fury. "Treason is one thing, but being accused of _murder_? How can anyone believe I would do such a thing?! To my own mother!"

"It doesn't matter how," Nino said with gentle seriousness. "The point is that the king knows you're alive. And every self-respecting bounty hunter and thief in the three kingdoms won't pass up the chance of getting free gold for your head."

Cat Noir tossed the paper fragments away with a heavy sigh, watching the pieces blow away like snow. "It's not the price on my head that concerns me, Nino," he said with a shaken tone. "It's Hawkmoth, a man who's been lying and scheming his way into the people's good graces for _years_." He rubbed his gloved hand through his golden, unkempt hair. "He's using their love for my mother to turn them against me."

Nino patted him on the shoulder. "Don't stew on it, dude," he said. "We've only been away for seven days. It'll take more time for the people to come around." He offered a small smile. "Besides, Mothball's just trying to scare you into either leaving the realm or turning yourself in. And you're not going to do either, are you?"

Cat Noir's smugness returned in a blink. "Hell no," he asserted.

"There you have it. Just keep your chin up. And try to stick your landing next time."

The thief punched him playfully in the arm.

Suddenly, a manly shriek pierced the air. It was coming from where the mercenaries had vanished.

Nino and Cat Noir stiffened, exchanging a worried glance.

Then, another phantom howl sounded, followed by the terrified screams of the mercs.

"What _is_ that?" Cat Noir breathed, his face as ghostly and pale as the moon above.

"Care to stick around to ask them?" Nino asked sarcastically.

"Not really."

"Me neither. Run!"

They took off in a different direction, swerving around bushes and leaping over the massive roots that lay strung along the forest floor.

It wasn't long before Nino heard a soft, rushing sound not too far away. _There must be a river nearby_ , he thought. "This way!" he whispered to Cat Noir.

His friend followed him until they saw clear skies straight ahead.

But the moment they cleared the trees and emerged into the cool expanse of air, Nino gasped and grinded to a halt...

... right at the edge of an extremely-high cliff!

Cat Noir skidded to a stop right next to his best friend, staring down with shrunken pupils down the steep drop.

A ribbon of water lay down at the bottom of the ravine. It would have been a relaxing sight to behold if the two friends weren't busy running for their lives. There was no safe way to get across to the other side of the forest, and jumping was _clearly_ not an option.

"Maybe we can climb down," Cat Noir suggested.

"The rock's too slippery," Nino said. "But if we follow the river downhill, we might..."

A twig snapped behind them, followed by a soft bark.

Nino's blood ran cold. That was _definitely_ not a wolf.

Casting one last look at each other, the two friends pivoted slowly around to see who their newest acquaintance was.

As soon as he saw her, Nino blinked and straightened.

It was a fox.

A vixen, to be more specific. She had a long, bushy tail that ended with a white tip. The rest of her fur was the colour of warm, mahogany wood, and her paws were as black as night. But it was the vixen's eyes that enchanted Nino. It was like looking at two glowing, yellow stars. They would have burned any other man who looked into them, but for Nino, he felt a wave of warmth wash over him. It felt safe; it felt good.

And then there was the scent. Nino couldn't figure out why he was suddenly smelling cinnamon, fresh pine needles and... Was that peaches? Whatever it was, it soothed the huntsman's agitation as though it were swaddling him in a blanket.

Even Cat Noir seemed amazed by the vixen's appearance. "It's... just a fox?" he uttered curiously.

Nino never took his eyes off the gentle-looking creature. And she never took her eyes off him. She started panting, and she almost seemed to be smiling at him. Her tail swayed back and forth behind her and her fluffy ears wiggled – definitely not a sign of wanting to attack the two young men.

But... Hadn't she attacked those two mercenaries? And if so, why was she sparing Nino and Cat Noir?

The huntsman took a single step forward. The vixen didn't twitch – she just kept watching him like he was an interesting monument.

But the moment his friend moved, Cat Noir immediately became tense. "Nino, be careful," he said in a hushed tone as he reached for his partner.

Nino shrugged him off. "If she wanted to hurt us, we'd be dead already, don't you think?" he asked softly, hoping not to startle the vixen. "She was pretty quick with those mercs."

When Cat Noir didn't respond, the huntsman knelt down on the ground before the female fox.

She sniffed at him, as though testing for any trick, before she took a step towards him as well.

Once again, Nino saw something glinting in those amber eyes of hers. It looked like she was saying, "Don't be afraid."

"Who are you?" he asked her.

"Nino, look!" Cat Noir declared, pointing out into the forest.

The vixen's head jerked to the right, and she let out a fearful whimper.

That's when Nino looked up to see glowing tints of light coming towards them, along with a barrage of sharp voices and calls. People!

With a huff, the vixen turned and sped away from the two boys and raced back into the forest. The brush swallowed her up, and not even Nino the huntsman knew where she went.

Before he could call out to her, several bodies emerged from the trees, carrying an assortment of torches, pitchforks and axes. The one leading them was a tall, respectable man with brown hair, a thin moustache and deep blue eyes. He had a crossbow in his hands.

Nino quickly got up as the leader lifted his weapon at the two newcomers. "What are you two doing here?" he demanded.

Cat Noir held up his hands. "Please, don't shoot," he urged as softly as he could. "We're just travellers. We come in peace."

The tall man squinted at them over his crossbow. "What travellers would dare wander this part of the forest at night, especially when that _beast_ is about?"

A woman with a torch whispered fearfully to her companions, "What if they're phantoms _she_ sent to trick us?"

"Why don't we poke 'em and find out?" a gruff-looking farmer with a machete grumbled.

Nino stepped in front of Cat Noir with narrowed eyes, gripping his twin hatchets secured at his belt. "You hurt him, and you're going to _wish_ I was a phantom," he spat.

The tall man blinked at him. After a lengthy, uncomfortable pause, he lowered his crossbow and addressed the rest of the mob. "The fact that he's threatening us proves he's not an apparition. I think they're just lost."

"Lost?" Cat Noir repeated incredulously, as though the word insulted him.

"Yes!" Nino exclaimed, giving his partner a shifty glance. "We were on our way to visit my sister and her family in the north, but a couple of brigands jumped us on King's Road. We came out here and managed to get away, but then..." He paused, suddenly seeing the vixen's amber eyes once again.

Then Cat Noir finished for him. "But then we heard howling and starting running. That's when a fox showed up and –"

Every single person in the mob drew a sharp breath.

The tall man stepped forward and gave a stiff nod. "My name is Kubdel of Rossi, and that was no fox you just encountered, my boy," he said gravely.

Nino frowned at him. "It seemed like a fox to us," he pointed out dryly.

"Looks can be deceiving," the gruff man said, his eyes as dark as coals.

Kubdel sighed. "It's hard to explain, but... I'm sure our mayor will want to meet with you." He beckoned with an open arm to his companions. "Come – we'll take you our village. It's not safe to stay out here without protection."

Nino wanted to point out that _he_ was the protection, but then he felt Cat Noir's hand on his arm.

Swallowing his pride, the huntsman followed Kubdel and the rest of the villagers back into the forest.

* * *

The wooden door to the cozy, two-story house creaked open, and Nino was hit with the smells of warm bread and boiling soup. It made his stomach grumble, and he realized he hadn't had a decent meal in seven days.

Neither had Cat Noir. "Hmm... I hope your mayor won't mind if we stay for dinner," he said over his shoulder to Kubdel.

The tall man chuckled. "She wouldn't be our mayor if she didn't," he chimed.

Nino took this opportunity to look around. The place had a very cottagey feel – welcoming and safe. A large table with chairs sat in the middle of the living area. There was also a lounge chair and bunch of shelves stacked with books, potted plants, and animal bones. The spare walls beheld antlers and human equipment such as bows and snowshoes. Across the way, there was a small kitchen, where a large pot sat over a flaming, stone fire pit. The ground was covered in rugs made from the pelts of animals: bear, wolf and sheep.

It was more like a hunting lodge than a mayor's house in Nino's opinion.

Once he took his shawl and leather-hide jacket off, Kubdel strode over to the stairs and called, "Madame Mayor, its Kubdel! I've brought visitors from the outside!"

"Be right there!" a feminine voice as smooth as caramel replied.

Nino heard the light footsteps on the wooden boards before an elegant figure appeared at the top of the stairs.

The moment he laid eyes on her, his survival instincts kicked in and he took a hesitant step back.

It wasn't her layers of dark-brown hair, her sharp, even-toned features, or the way she carried herself gracefully down the steps.

It was the way those dark green eyes – like the darkest shade of a leaf you could possibly find – bore into Nino, like a volley of arrows aimed right at him and preparing to release.

It was the way she seemed to make the air around Nino prickle with uncomfortable heat, like the snapping embers of a raging forest fire. Not to mention the stench of rotten apples he suddenly smelled. It made the huntsman's appetite vanish in a heartbeat.

Nino turned to Cat Noir to see how he was reacting to this. It was not in the way the huntsman was expecting.

His partner's eyes were wide with awe, and the corners of his mouth lifted as the mayor came towards them. He seemed so relaxed; so detached from everything as though this woman was the only thing that mattered to him.

It made Nino all the more tense. First the fox, and now this woman. What was going on here?

The mayor curtsied to them with a smile that reminded Nino of a lynx. "Welcome to the village of Rossi," she said. "My name is Lila. I'm the mayor, as much as I hate to admit it."

Kubdel chuckled behind Nino.

Lila giggled and glanced between her two distinguished guests. "And to whom do I have the utmost pleasure of addressing?" she asked with a purr in her tone.

Cat Noir practically sprang forward and took her hand in his. "You can call me "Cat Noir", Madame Mayor," he said before laying the soft brush of a kiss on her hand.

Lila's other hand flew to her heart. "Oh, please, I don't have the patience for formalities," she insisted sweetly. "I would happier if you just called me Lila."

The thief grinned. "Of course... Lila," he said with a wink.

Lila giggled again, and the sound grated against Nino's ears, making him wince.

She noticed, and raised a curious eyebrow at the huntsman. "And you?"

Nino quickly regained his composure. "Call me Nino," he said. He made no attempt to kiss her hand at all.

Something dark swam in Lila's eyes, but then she blinked and it was gone. "Well, Cat Noir and Nino," she cooed, "I don't suppose I could trouble you both for some of my famous rabbit stew?"

Dinner went by more smoothly than the greeting. Nino had to admit Lila's presence wasn't as hard to bear when there was food on the table.

"Wow!" Cat Noir exclaimed between spoonfuls. "This is the best soup I've ever tasted!" He looked over at Nino and added, "And coming from me, that's saying a lot."

The huntsman shook his head with a snort. _He's lying_ , he thought. _Castle Agreste's cooks made Lila's soup taste like water. Cat's just saying that to impress her._

Still, it made Nino wonder what exactly his best friend saw in the mayor. She was undoubtedly beautiful, but so was a mountain lion.

And the more Lila kept gazing longingly at Cat Noir, the more Nino wondered if magic was at work here. _And if so, why doesn't her charm work on me?_

Lila finally crossed her palms together on the table and said, "Now, then... I'm sure you both have a bunch of questions. I apologise for the way the others treated you in the forest, but with everything that's been happening, you mustn't blame them for being overly-cautious."

Now she had Nino's undivided attention. "What exactly _has_ been happening?" he asked.

"If you tell us, maybe there's a way we can help," Cat Noir offered.

Lila went all glossy-eyed and took a deep breath. "This village is cursed," she explained in a low, fearful tone. "For as long as I have been here, a savage monster has plagued the forest around us. Her name... is Volpina."

Just the name made Nino's neck-hair stand on end.

"She is a fox unlike any other," Lila went on, her green eyes darkening, "born with incredible strength, speed and cunning. Her senses are so sharp, my people have to rub ash, mud and tree sap over themselves to mask their scent." Her head lowered. "But it's still not enough. Almost every night, livestock go missing and are found dead and dismembered the next morning. Many a brave soul has ventured into those woods to find and kill Volpina, armed with the best weapons and skills they have. Not a single one has ever returned."

Cat Noir went pale. "That's terrible!" he breathed.

Even Nino looked horror-stricken. This Volpina... She couldn't _possibly_ have been the same amber-eyed vixen they had bumped into earlier. Could she?

"It's a miracle Kubdel and the others found you two when they did," Lila said. "Volpina prefers to pick off her prey when they're alone, but she is no match for an entire mob. Sadly, none of our hunting parties have been able to catch her." Her eyes lit up with hope. "But, perhaps, now that _you're_ here..."

Nino immediately held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa – hold on!" he urged with narrowed eyes. "My buddy and I are just two innocent travellers."

Lila's face seemed to go as hard and placid as stone.

Until Cat Noir blurted, "Actually... Nino here is a skilled huntsman! He can find and trap anything!"

Nino swore he just lost his jaw as he gaped at his friend.

The mayor beamed with relief. "A huntsman? Why, that's perfect!" she exclaimed as she clapped her hands. "If you could help us track down and defeat Volpina, the people of Rossi would be eternally grateful." She smiled at Cat Noir and reached out to touch his hand. "As would I."

Nothing but appalled choking came from Nino's mouth.

Then, he stumbled out of his chair, grabbed Cat Noir by the arm, and said hastily to Lila, "Will you excuse us, please? Thank you."

He grumbled to himself as he dragged a struggling Cat Noir with him into the waiting room.

"Ow, ow – hey! What gives? Nino! Hey!" the thief squawked before he was plopped unceremoniously in front of the huntsman.

"Don't you "what gives" me, you blockhead!" Nino hissed. " _You're_ the one throwing me into the frying pan here!"

Cat Noir squirmed out his partner's grip with a scowl. "I was only trying to help," he argued.

Nino folded his arms. "How? By spilling out anything that might reveal we're not who we say we are? Did it ever occur to you that telling Lila anything about us might put not only her, but the _rest of the village_ in more danger than they already are?"

That made Cat Noir's face fall, and he stared down at the floorboards awkwardly. "I... No, I didn't," he sighed. "I'm sorry, Nino. I should've just kept my mouth shut."

The huntsman's anger melted away and he breathed through his nose. "Well, at least you didn't tell her anything of dire consequence, like your true name. Anyway, there's no point in denying the fact that I'm killer." His brown eyes lingered over to the window beside them. No living soul was out there – the village street was just as hollow and dead as Nino's heart. " _You_ of all people should know that," he added with a pang of shame.

Now Cat Noir was gripping his arm, but in a gentle, brotherly fashion. "How many times do I have to tell you?" he said with a small chuckle. "It wasn't your fault. _You're_ not the man who tried to kill me, Nino – Hawkmoth is."

The huntsman turned back to him. "How do you know that?" he asked hoarsely. "He wiped out my memories, Cat. Without them, I'm just a human body with an instinct to track, slaughter and skin without a second thought. The only reason why I'm back to normal is because _you_ saved me." He bit his lip. "What if it wasn't just Hawkmoth? What if he simply brought out the worst in me? What if, deep down, I'm just a cold-blooded monster?"

Cat Noir stared at him in disbelief. "If _that_ were true, you certainly wouldn't have me as a friend," he stated. "And I'm not the one who saved you, Nino – you saved yourself." He smiled and nudged his head towards the kitchen. "And now, there are others who desperately need saving. If we just walk away, how will we ever hope to stop Hawkmoth?"

The former prince _did_ have a point. Lila still tickled Nino's warning system something fierce, but he couldn't ignore the fact that there was a monstrous fox out there killing for sport.

There was still a part of Nino who couldn't imagine that the red vixen was some kind of cursed beast. And yet, something about her made the huntsman wonder if there _was_ some kind of enchantment going on after all.

Either way, she was the prime suspect.

Nino nodded at Cat Noir. "All right, bro. If your heart's in it, then so is mine."

The thief flashed a feline grin. "Great!" he said. "Then let's go tell Lila the good news."

* * *

Nino rolled over onto his side. Then his other side. With a groan, he sat up in bed.

He wasn't used to sleeping on a soft mattress. The Rossian innkeeper had been gracious enough to give both Nino and Cat Noir spacious rooms. But now the huntsman wished he could be back outside, feeling the soft earth under his back, listening to the crickets, and staring up at the starry sky.

At least Nino's room had a big window, so moonlight filled the entire space.

 _Aw well_ , he thought as he got out of bed, pulled the blanket clean off the mattress, and laid it down upon the wooden floor.

As Nino flattened himself down and stared up at the hollow, arched ceiling, he heard a faint howl from outside.

He turned his head so that he could see the glistening moon – a pearl of light illuminating the inky blue sky.

Nino heard the howling again, and as his eyelids drifted shut, he swore he caught of glimpse of glowing amber peeking at him through the window.

It didn't bother the huntsman one bit.

* * *

 **MB: The first bit of the second "IWAFY" prequel! Yay!**

 **So, FYI, this is more of my own story with a bit of inspiration from the _Once Upon a Time_ episodes "Red-Handed" and "Child of the Moon" (both of which I don't own).**

 **And yes, Lila's in it. Enough said.**

 **So, yeah... Enjoy!**


	8. Of Monsters and Magic: Shadows of Doubt

**OF MONSTERS AND MAGIC**

 _ **Chapter 2:**_

 _ **Shadows of Doubt**_

 _One thing this reader should know about magic:_

 _It's like a tapestry of many threads and colours; intercepting in some parts and staying separate in others._

 _When it comes to those who wield magic, they have their own thread of power coercing through them._

 _And that thread, depending how strong it is and how it moves, leaves whatever it sows in its wake..._

* * *

Morning in Rossi, despite the sunshine and the twittering of birds, was very dismal.

Everyone was travelling in groups. Children huddled close to their mothers. Men carried a weapon on their person even if they were just going to milk the cows or pick eggs from the local coup. A rare few stopped to say hello to their neighbours, but then they would hurry on along without another word.

Nino had never seen such a place before; with so much fear and seclusion. "Look at them," he said to Cat Noir as they followed Lila down the main road cutting through the village. "They think they're being watched."

The mayor glanced over her shoulder at him. "Volpina has taken many of their animals... and loved ones," she explained sombrely as she lifted her orange skirt of her dress over a large puddle. "It's only natural they should fear the same will happen to them. But life will always go on here in Rossi, no matter the threat. Clinging to hope is better than having none at all."

"I know the feeling," Cat Noir murmured before saying aloud, "So, where are we headed, anyway?"

"I received word this morning about another disturbance in one of the fields," Lila said. "Some of the sheep were found dead in their pen. As mayor, it's my duty to investigate and figure out the proper course of action. Hopefully," she added with another glance at Nino, "you'll be able to put your skills as a huntsman to good use."

Nino and Cat Noir exchanged a hopeful look before trotting after Lila.

When they finally arrived at the shepherd's pen, it was more brutal than Nino had imagined.

Four full-grown sheep lay in twisted, blood-soaked heaps on the blood-soaked ground. Their necks had been torn into, and the front parts of their coats were stained heavily with red. As Nino took a closer look, he cringed at the sight of the sheep's open eyes, which were nothing but ghostly-white bulges.

Kneeling down beside one of the carcasses, the huntsman brushed some of the soaked fur away from the sheep's neck. The cuts were undoubtedly done by claws, but there were also two rows of tiny puncture marks further along. It was as though whatever had killed the sheep had clawed into it _while_ holding it firmly in its teeth.

Nino stood and searched the ground for any tracks. Most of them were made by the hooves of sheep, obviously, but then the huntsman noticed a collection of paw prints. They were canine, but smaller and slimmer than a wolf's and more feral than a normal dog's. Judging by the size of the pads and the length of the claw marks, Nino recognised the tracks as those of a female fox.

 _Maybe it_ was _her_ , he thought as he strode out of the pen and up to Cat Noir and Lila, who were leaning on the fence with nervous expressions.

After going over what he found, Nino finally said, "It doesn't make any sense. The vixen Cat and I saw last night didn't look anywhere close to something that could do... all this." He beckoned to the slaughter behind him.

"Looks can be deceiving," Lila pointed out.

"Where have I heard _that_ before?" Cat Noir asked wryly.

Lila almost grinned at him. "When she's not too busy killing, Volpina lures her victims away from their homes with something called her "aura". Basically, she enchants them into thinking she is their friend... and coerces them to follow her into the woods."

Both Nino's and Cat Noir's eyes were wide with bewilderment.

"She can do that?" the thief asked. "She can... _control_ people?"

"In a way, yes," the mayor replied.

Nino immediately knew what Cat Noir was thinking. The huntsman himself knew what it was like to fall under someone's spell.

What if Lila was right? And what if the red vixen really had enchanted Nino last night?

Cat Noir turned to Nino. "So what do we do next?"

The dark-skinned man pushed his glasses into place. "Well, if Volpina really can control people, it's best not to send out anymore hunters to try and capture her directly," he explained.

"So we set a trap," Cat Noir suggested. "We bait her."

"That's the idea, but here's the catch: that fox is intelligent. She knew to go for the necks first in order to kill all these sheep. Who's to say she won't get suspicious if she sees a single sheep in the middle of the forest so far from its flock?"

"Good point."

"What do you suggest, Nino?" Lila asked.

The huntsman thought for a minute, and then replied, "I hate to say this, but there's only _one_ type of bait Volpina would easily go for; something worth more than sheep or cattle."

Cat Noir caught on, and he frowned. "A human being."

"Exactly. And I volunteer."

Lila's green eyes snapped to the huntsman. For a moment, Nino swore she was smiling.

"No way!" Cat Noir said firmly. "That fox tried to enchant you once already. She can easily do it again."

Nino grinned slyly at his friend. "Not this time. Not when I know what her aura feels like."

Lila looked at Cat Noir. "He may be right," she assured him, moving a hand onto his shoulder. "No one has ever been seduced by Volpina once before and lived to tell the tale. Nino might be our only chance."

Cat Noir smiled faintly at her, but Nino frowned.

 _She seems_ pretty _eager to capture Volpina_ , he thought.

Just then, a cry sounded from behind the group. "Madame Mayor! Madame Mayor!"

Everyone turned to see a young girl – probably in her earlier teens – racing up towards them. Her short mop of deep-pink hair bounced around her head, and she wore an outfit made of a simple tunic, corset and trousers.

As soon as she reached the group, gasping for breath, she looked up with pleading, dark-blue eyes. Nino knew those eyes.

"Alix, what's wrong?" Lila enquired, holding out her arms to steady the girl.

"My... My father..." the girl panted anxiously. "Our dog... Wilby... went missing this morning. Father thought he ran off to the chicken coop again... so he went out to find him..." Her gaze darted between Nino and Cat Noir. "But he hasn't come back!"

Lila cupped Alix's face in her hands. "Calm down, Alix – deep breaths. I'm sure your father's fine. He's just... probably still looking for that silly dog." She held the little girl in a warm hug before shooting Nino a look that was entirely the opposite of what she said.

The huntsman went up to Alix and asked softly, "Can you tell me where you last saw him?"

* * *

Kubdel's footprints in the grass were easy to spot, so long as you knew where to look.

Nino kept his eyes locked on the ground and followed the trail while Cat Noir, Alix and Lila lingered behind him.

It was like seeing the footprints of a drunken man: a step here, a stumble there, a stagger back, a rush forward. Nino doubted Kubdel had been drinking so early in the morning, and he pressed on faster.

Soon, he was thick in the trees, scouring the roots for scruff marks.

"Anything?" Cat Noir called.

"Not yet," Nino called back, "but I'm close."

He heard Alix murmuring behind him, "Papa would never go into the woods on his own. Oh god – what if it's _her_?"

"Shh, don't worry," Cat Noir reassured her. "My friend over there is the best tracker in the kingdom. If anyone can find your father, he can."

Nino grinned... until he saw different kinds of marks on the ground.

Pawprints. And long streaks in the dirt indicating something – or someone – had been dragged away.

"Oh no..." Nino exhaled as he broke into sprint.

He ignored his friend's calls as he ran up over a steep, tree-infested slope and came back down. The drag marks didn't end, but Nino found something snagged into one of the exposed roots.

His heart sank as he realized it was a shawl. A man's shawl. It was covered in blood.

 _Kubdel..._

Nino tore the thing away from the root and closed his eyes in a silent prayer.

Then he heard the thumping of footsteps.

"Nino?" Cat Noir asked hesitantly. "What is it? What did you find?"

The huntsman reluctantly turned around with the red-spotted shawl clear for the group to see.

Alix gasped and covered her mouth before tears slipped from her eyes. "Papa... Oh, no... Papa, no!" she whimpered.

Lila instantly had her arms around the girl and turned her back to the horrid sight. "There, there..." she whispered as Alix wept against her.

Cat Noir hung his head down before looking towards Nino.

Neither one of them said anything.

* * *

The news of Kubdel's apparent death came as a heavy blow to the Rossians. He had been a firm leader and a wonderful friend, and now he was just another "Lost One".

Many had offered to go into the woods themselves to hunt down the monster that had taken him; to avenge their fellow man.

But Lila had sternly refused. "No one is setting _one foot_ out of their homes unless I say so!" she declared later that day from the front porch of her house. "Kubdel would never have wanted anyone to risk their own lives for his. Go to your families, comfort your children... for we all must stand together if we are to get through this dark and terrible time."

Unsurprisingly, everyone in the village had listened to their mayor.

Well... _almost_ everyone.

It began while Nino was back in his room at the inn, speaking in hushed tones with Cat Noir. The thief sat cross-legged on the bed while the huntsman paced restlessly in front of him.

"You're going to go after Volpina, aren't you?" Cat Noir uttered dismally.

Nino nodded. "I have to. I'm the only one who can. And these people don't deserve to suffer through this any longer." He looked over at his best friend, the vow he had sworn to him eight days ago fresh in his heart.

The Rossians needed a hero to save them. But Prince Adrien still needed a friend to protect him.

"If I don't come back..." Nino began.

Cat Noir stood. "You _will_ come back," he corrected. "You always do."

The huntsman smiled and gazed out the window.

 _That's_ when he saw her.

Nino squinted through the glass. "Hey, that... That's Alix!" he almost shouted.

"What?!" Cat Noir rushed over and peered out towards the street below.

Sure enough, a tiny figure with pink hair meandered past the inn. She wore no cloak to keep out the night's chill, and her eyes were wide and vacant. She craned her neck as though she was looking for something... or listening for a sound.

"What is she doing out there all by herself?" Nino hissed.

Cat Noir let out a heavy breath that fogged up the window. "Volpina!"

"You certain?"

"Think about it: what's the one thing Alix wants more than anything right now?"

Nino knew the answer right away: her father, back from the dead.

"I'm going after her," he whispered before racing for the door.

"I'm going with you," Cat Noir said, running to grab his staff.

Nino spun to him. "Wrong. You're staying here. I don't want to worry about _you_ too. Find Lila and tell her what's happening. And... Just keep a sharp eye, okay?"

Cat Noir stared at him for a moment... but then nodded. "You too."

The huntsman grinned and swept his cloak over his arm. "Don't worry," he said as he headed out, "I'm good at finding things."

* * *

The Enchanted Forest was damp and cold at night, even at the end of summer.

Nino's teeth chattered as he lowered his lantern closer to the ground. Alix's tracks were fresh, so he couldn't be far behind.

Unfortunately, they had led the huntsman back into the woods.

He tried calling out to Alix a few times, but all it did was scare away a few bats. Giving up, Nino picked up the pace. The sooner he found Alix, the safer the both of them would be.

The little footprints were staggering now; getting weaker.

Then, a high-pitched scream sounded just ahead.

Nino snapped up. " _Alix!_ " he yelled as he starting running.

The darkness of the forest seemed to taunt him, but the huntsman ignored it and relied on his keen sight more than his lantern to see.

All the while, he cried out into the open, "Alix! Where are you?! ALIX!"

He ran until at last he stopped near the edge of a hill. Nino glanced around sharply, feeling like he was trapped in a maze.

So he looked down to the forest floor for footprints again. All he saw were paw-prints.

Nino gritted his teeth. _If that monster has done anything to her..._ But he cleared his head and focused on following the new trail.

However, something in the tracks made him pause.

It was a fox's paw, but it was blurry. And the four front pads were elongating.

Heart pounding, Nino went further along the trail. The more he looked, the more he saw paw-prints changing into something else; something _bigger_... with a fifth, long pad sprouting from the side.

It wasn't long before Nino realized – with a pang of horror – that they were handprints. _Human_ handprints.

"What the –?" The huntsman's voice caught in his throat as he checked again and again, making sure he wasn't going crazy.

Then the handprints were replaced with human footprints – or, rather, the tracks of thin, feminine boots.

Nino stopped when he reached a large, open clearing outlined by several enormous trees.

His mind was all fuzzy with shock, and his face was slick with sweat. "What kind of monster is this?" he breathed.

A feral growl answered him.

Freezing, Nino glanced up... only to see a pair of glowing eyes as red as a pair of rubies imbued with sunlight. They stared right at him.

But the creature's form was nothing but a hulking, mist-like shadow. Tendrils of it snapped and curled angrily like tentacles. The shadow let out another growl, revealing a mouth of dripping, razor-sharp teeth.

Nino narrowed his eyes, challenging the monster. He had never backed down from a worthy kill, and he wasn't going to stop now.

Placing the lantern on the ground, the huntsman drew his twin hatchets, twirled them around, and crouched into a fighting stance. "All right, beastie," he said. "Show me what you've got."

The red eyes narrowed at him in response.

Then... it struck, faster than a whizzing arrow.

Nino dove out of the way before leaping forward and slashing at the monster with both hatchets.

The whole thing dispersed into nothing but sheer, watery mist.

Nino gasped and looked around.

But he was too late to stop several pounds of brown and orange muscle colliding with his middle and sending him flat onto his back.

Nino cried out as claws as big as daggers began driving into his chest, crushing his rib cage. Hot, stinking breath blew into his face, reeking of blood and... rotten apples?

The huntsman struggled violently. _No! I'm... not... going down... like this!_

Then the monster huffed at him several times. It was _laughing_.

Nino's face contorted when pain as he looked into its enormous red eyes one last time.

The beast's jaws opened wide...

A fierce bark, the sound of flesh pounding upon flesh... and then the monster slid off of Nino and rolled away.

The huntsman gasped and winced from the pain of his free ribs before lurching up into a sit-up position.

What he saw next astounded him.

The monstrous fox that had attacked him was glaring and growling a few feet away at its newfound attacker: the small, gorgeous red vixen.

Nino stared aghast as the bushy-tailed creature stood between him and the beast, her fur standing on end, her growl ordering her opponent to back off.

But the giant fox wasn't going to give up such easy prey.

Nino watched as both creatures charged and collided. Teeth tore, claws grazed, and fur went flying. It was so terrifying it made Nino crawl back.

Then, the small vixen let out a painful whimper as her opponent threw her aside. Then the red-eyed beast turned back to Nino.

Glaring back at her, the huntsman scrambled up and held his hatchets out in front of him. "Leave her alone!" he shouted. "I'm the one you want, Volpina!" His mouth curled into a teasing grin. "Or should I say... _Lila_?"

The monster roared, spraying drool everywhere. But Nino was no longer fooled.

This time, the huntsman was the first to strike. He spun out of the way of Volpina's raging fangs and drove one of his little axes right into her back.

Volpina roared again, and then slammed her head against Nino, sending him rolling away in the dirt.

He coughed and turned over onto his stomach just as he heard another series of growling.

He looked up and blinked at the red vixen as she leapt right on top of Volpina, biting furiously into her back.

The monster reared up and tried to shrug the vixen off of her. When that didn't work, she tried to scratch her off. But the feisty little fox held on every time.

Groaning, Nino got up onto his hands and knees and searched for his remaining hatchet.

Instead, he found his lantern. That gave him an idea.

He grabbed it and stumbled over to one of the trees. One of the exposed roots stuck out like a massive point. Nino ripped it off with man power before smashing the lantern on the ground. A burst of flame exploded from the broken glass, and Nino buried the end of his stick into the miniature inferno.

Holding up his makeshift torch with pride, the huntsman turned back to the fight.

Unfortunately, Volpina finally got her teeth around the vixen's loose forepaw and ripped the little creature off. The vixen shrieked as she dangled from the monster's jaws by one leg.

Nino gasped.

Then Volpina sent her prey flying through the air.

The vixen slammed against a tree before tumbling onto the ground with a whimper. Then she lay still.

Nino growled and ran towards her just before Volpina could get any closer, probably to finish her off.

The huntsman let out a valiant cry as he stood in front of the fallen vixen and waved the burning torch in Volpina's face.

The monster's red eyes widened and she staggered back, roaring with outrage.

Nino only smiled at her ruthlessly. "What's the matter? Afraid of a little flame?"

He swung the torch again. And again. And again.

Finally, Volpina snarled at him and took off into the trees at a rapid pace. Her growl of defiance told Nino their fight was far from over.

Nino waited, panting heavily.

But at last, the forest grew quiet.

The courage inside him turned into dread as he pivoted around to face the vixen.

Her leg was bleeding profusely, and her amber eyes blinked up at him. She offered up a squeak of a "thank you" before resting her head on the ground and going still again.

Nino dropped the torch and kneeled beside her. "Hey," he said with a gentle plea, "don't go to sleep. Stay with me, you little fur-ball. Don't die on me, all right?"

He carefully dug his hands underneath the vixen and lifted her into his arms. She seemed to stir at his touch. Nino couldn't help but smile. She was cute when she was asleep. But now wasn't a good time for a nap.

"It's all right," he whispered, stroking her head. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe with me."

Even in the darkness, Nino saw the vixen smile.

Then... she started glowing.

Nino's brown eyes went big as a torrent of golden light engulfed the vixen in his arms and grew exponentially bigger. It was a deeper kind of gold, like honey or the rays of the rising sun. It sparkled like ribbons of fairy dust. It was warm and smelled of sunflowers.

Nino had never seen anything so beautiful.

Well, that is... until the light faded away, and Nino realized he wasn't holding onto a vixen anymore.

It was a girl. A human girl.

And when she opened her eyes – just as bright and golden as before – and smiled up at Nino, that cold, hollow spot in the huntsman's heart suddenly filled with luminous warmth.

* * *

 **MB: Aww...**

 **I felt bad about not including Alix in the Seven Bandits for "IWAFY", so I decided to bring her into this story. Don't worry - you'll all see her again. ;)**


	9. Of Monsters and Magic: Two of a Kind

**OF MONSTERS AND MAGIC**

 _ **Chapter 3:**_

 _ **Two of a Kind**_

 _I have said once before that not all fairy tale romances start out with Love at First Sight._

 _Fortunately, this one is an exception..._

* * *

"You're... You're a girl!" Nino exclaimed, though his voice almost came out in a high-pitched squeak.

The creature in his arms snorted weakly at him. " _Woman_ ," she corrected with a hint of annoyance. Then she hung her head back with a groan, her auburn hair flowing down to touch the tree roots. It was bushy and thick, just like her fox tail had been.

Her glasses – she wore _glasses_ , just like him! – nearly fell off her face, and the huntsman could see her bronze-like skin paling to the shade of tree sap.

Nino wasn't sure whether or not this whole scenario was just an illusion; if he was being bewitched into thinking he was now holding a beautiful, half-conscious girl.

But then he would notice her bleeding arm – he could smell the salty tang of it in the air – and the huntsman knew it wasn't a trick. This... magician had saved his life, and now he owed her a debt. He would ask questions later.

Firstly, Nino retrieved both his hatchets and strapped them back onto his belt.

Second, he wrenched off his cloak and wrapped it around the girl, using one end to cover her wound. "Keep the presser on that," he said to her, hoping she was conscious enough to hear.

Finally, Nino hooked one of his arms underneath her knees and eased her back onto the other. Once he had a good hold, Nino lifted her up and began walking.

She must have realized she was moving, because then she uttered, "Where are you taking me?"

"The village," Nino replied. "We can find someone to –"

"No!" the girl gasped, causing the huntsman to stop and stare down at her confusedly.

"I can't... Not there..." she winced, her eyelids blinking furiously as she tried to stay awake. "My place... down by the waterfall... in the caves..."

Nino was about to argue that she needed a proper healer, but then he remembered who had injured her in the first place.

But instead of Lila, the huntsman's thoughts flew to Cat Noir. Nino had told him to warn Lila about the danger. What if she had already taken _him_ too?

Nino couldn't afford to think about that right now, no matter how hard it hit him. All that mattered was getting this girl somewhere safe... away from Lila.

So he nodded and said, "All right. The waterfall it is."

The girl smiled as she rested her head against his shoulder.

As soon as he started sprinting through the forest again, she fell asleep.

* * *

 _Alya was running through the woods._

 _She was on all fours, and she could feel the wind combing its fingers through her fur. It rejuvenated her; made her feel brave and swift. Alya could smell the sun, hear the trees, and feel the worms beneath the earth. She had never felt so free._

 _Suddenly, like a candle being blown out, the world became dark._

 _The trees turned wretched and monstrous, and they seemed to reach out to grab her. The ground grew wet and slimy like mud. An angry moon followed her, threatening to swallow her whole and burn her alive._

 _Frightened, Alya ran faster._

 _Or, she_ tried _to... until she realized that her paws had become hands and feet._

 _Alya stared at them in horror. They were slick with mud. But it wasn't mud at all – it was warmer... and redder. She was covered in blood._

 _And when she looked up, she saw_ him _. Her father – lifeless on the ground._

 _It was_ his _blood on her hands._

 _Behind Alya, a cold, female voice whispered, "They will never choose you. Why choose them?"_

 _Alya screamed..._

... and woke with a shudder.

Water. It was just water that had gotten her wet. She could hear the soothing flow of the waterfall, which shielded the mouth of the cave she was in.

Home. This was her home.

Alya let out a deep sigh... and that's when she smelled something good, like sizzling meat. Pheasant, to be precise. The aroma was enough to make her inch off her bedroll, pull on her glasses, and see who was cooking it.

It was the huntsman.

His dark eyes lifted from the skewer overtop of the fire pit, and he gave her a relieved grin. "Morning," he sang in a very mediocre tenor. "Hope you're hungry."

Alya couldn't help but stare at him. She was starved, to be sure, but she was more interested in the huntsman than the food right now.

Looking back on it, she never really stopped to look at him before. Now, in the light of the fire and the sparkling curtain of water, Alya noticed just how deep the huntsman's tan was – like toffee or warm apple cider. His glasses were round and they made his brown eyes bigger; more childish. His dark hair was cropped short at uneven angles, but it seemed to suit him.

And whenever he paused during his work to look up at her, his smile was genuinely grateful.

She couldn't remember the last time she had ever seen someone look at her that way, without a trace of apprehension. Well, not since _Lila_ anyway.

As Alya went up onto her knees, she noticed that her arm didn't hurt so much anymore. She was amazed to see it wrapped up in a perfectly-even bandage, stretching from the top of her bicep all the way to her wrist, where the ends wrapped firmly but softly around her fingers.

Alya glanced between her arm and the huntsman. "You did this?" she asked with intrigue.

He nodded. "How does it feel?"

She moved her arm this way and that. "Surprisingly... all right," she replied with raised eyebrows. "I can still move my elbow and wrist too, without the bandage loosening. How'd you do that?"

The huntsman shrugged. "I practiced. Mostly on myself." He smiled and turned back to the roasting pheasants. "One time, a bobcat got me on my leg, all the way past the knee. The nurse told me I wouldn't be able to hunt for weeks, but I'm not exactly the patient type. So I found a way to bandage myself while still being able to move and run. Worked like a charm."

Alya almost laughed. "Is _this_ how you usually start conversations with strangers?" she asked. "By telling stories about past injuries?"

He looked up at her again, and then shook his head. "Forgive me," he said awkwardly. "Apparently, I'm not much of the gentleman type either. My name's Nino. What's yours?"

In the past, Alya would give people a false name. It had been the safer way to go. But Lila had changed all that. _No point in lying now_ , the auburn-haired girl thought. _Besides, he asked nicely._ "Alya," she finally replied.

Nino stared at her again. "Alya..." he repeated, the word slurring over his tongue like a magic spell. "That's not bad... I mean, it's not a bad name, it's just..." He frowned and cleared his throat. "It's nice."

Alya could hear his pulse quickening as he spoke. With her sharp hearing, it practically ricocheted along the cave walls.

Or maybe that was her _own_ heartbeat ticking faster than normal. "Tha-Thank you," she stammered with blush. "And... thank you for not turning me in to the Rossians."

Nino removed the skewer carefully off the two adjacent sticks before snapping it in two – each one with a hot, juicy pheasant on it – and handed one of them to Alya. " _Technically_ , I was supposed to be hunting down _Volpina_ ," the huntsman said with a cunning gleam in his eyes. "It wouldn't have been very decent of me to bring them the wrong fox, now would it? But you're welcome."

Alya sat down and took a mouthful of meat. Hot grease almost burned her chin and cheeks, but the taste was delightful. She swallowed and corrected her companion, "I'm a shape-shifter... who can _turn into_ a fox. There's a difference, you know."

Nino fell into his spot across from her and bit into his own pheasant with a thoughtful "Mm-hmm."

No more words passed between the two of them as they devoured their breakfast. Alya wondered every minute or so if he would start asking questions, but Nino seemed quite content to let her eat before giving her the chance to explain herself. _And he said he wasn't a gentleman_ , she thought with a smirk.

Finally, they both put down their broken skewers and Alya hugged her knees to her chest with a satisfied sigh. Now that she had her energy back, she felt like she was ready to go all fox and hunt down Lila from now until Winter Solstice.

Nino must have read her mind, because then he asked her, "So Lila's the one responsible for all these attacks, isn't she? And she's using _you_ as a scapegoat."

Alya nodded, her brow lowering. "I'm not surprised she tried to get rid of you the first chance she got," she said. "Anyone immune to her aura is a threat to her, and _those_ people tend to disappear the fastest."

Nino's eyes scrunched. "But why is she doing all this? What does she have to gain?"

"Power," the shape-shifter responded. "A shape-shifter's aura causes people to feel nothing but joy and bliss... unless they're made of tougher stuff, like _you_ are. And when it comes to Lila..." Alya bit her cheek in anger. "Lila thinks all humans are below her, so she uses her aura to control people; to make them _trust_ her. The happier and safer they feel around her, the stronger she becomes and the more spells she can perform. Hence the illusion you saw last night."

Nino nodded with understanding. "Can _you_ do that too? Create illusions, I mean."

Alya shook her head with half a laugh. "I wish. I've had this ability my whole life and I've only been able to transform. If I have any other powers, they haven't shown yet. Or maybe I have none at all." She shrugged and looked away. "Lila's different. She was more powerful than me at my age, and when I first met her in Rossi..." Alya swallowed hard, the memory of that day like a stone in her chest.

"You knew her?" Nino asked.

Alya snorted dryly. "I _thought_ I did," she replied as she stared ominously into the burning embers before her. "I'll spare you the tear-jerking parts, but basically... she decided to teach me. But not like I had hoped. She tried to instill her own hatred of humans into me. She tried to turn me into a..."

"A weapon?" Nino's voice was sombre, as though he knew the answer deep down in his bones.

Alya glanced up at him with a sad, heartfelt look. "Yes. But I didn't want that, so one day I confronted her." she said. "I said I didn't want to _make_ the Rossians love me – I wanted to _earn_ their love; to protect them from harm." Her voice lowered into a growl. "But Lila wouldn't take "no" for an answer. And when I didn't budge, she decided to teach me a cruel lesson."

"The Rossians," Nino deduced. "Lila turned them against you."

Alya nodded. "I tried to stop her, but like I said – she's stronger than me. She had the people in her thrall, and there was nothing I could do but flee... to this cave." She beckoned to her makeshift hovel. Then she turned back to Nino with a grin worthy of her fox-like nature. "But she underestimates how stubborn I am," she said, "and I won't stop fighting back until I show the villagers who the _real_ monster is."

To the shape-shifter's surprise, Nino smiled. "You sound just like my best friend," he said.

"Who – Cat Boy?"

"Cat _Noir_."

"That's a funny name. Why don't _you_ have one?"

The huntsman laughed. "It's complicated." He crawled out of his sitting position and stood up. "And speaking of the guy, I need to get back to Rossi and get him out of there."

Alya was immediately on her feet, her amber eyes wide. "Hel-lo? Has the smoke gotten into your head?" she asked incredulously. "Lila will be expecting you to go back for your friend." She waved her bandaged arm in his face. "And I didn't get all scarred and patched up just to have you waltz back into her claws!"

Nino brushed her arm away with a cool stare. "First of all, I don't waltz," he stated. "Second of all, that kid is someone very important to me – to _a lot_ of people, in fact. And now _he's_ the one trapped in Lila's claws." His eyes went downcast for a moment before flaring with determination. "If anything happens to him, I'll never forgive myself. So I'm going, whether you're coming or not."

Alya gaped at him, feeling a great rush of emotion flood through her.

Then Nino's mouth curled upward and he said, "But I'll probably stand a much better chance of survival if you were there with me."

The sounds of the waterfall hung between them, and not once did they take their eyes off the other's.

All the while, Alya realized she may have just met someone as equally stubborn as she was, with a pinch of arrogance for spice.

But still... This Cat Noir had to be more than a "very important" friend for Nino to risk his life over.

"All right," Alya obliged. "I'll come with you... on one condition."

Nino raised an eyebrow.

She pointed at her own chest. "I know this place, and I know Lila. So _I'm_ the one calling all the shots. Think you can handle that, huntsman?"

He wasn't smiling, but she caught a spark of interest in his brown eyes. "Wouldn't be the first time I've had to take orders from a woman," he replied coolly.

Alya lifted her chin with a smug smile. "Good. Then here's what we're going to do..."

* * *

The rest of the morning passed as slow as a snail in Rossi.

That is, until a pair of children playing with a couple of stick-swords saw something red and furry emerge from the trees and trot towards them.

It was only when she burst into golden flame that the two little boys screamed and ran towards their respective mothers.

Then, there was more screaming to go around. Women scrambled into the nearest hut they could find, and men emerged carrying their tools and axes. They formed a thick crowd in the middle of the main road, their shifty eyes narrowed at the captivating redhead coming towards them.

But Alya didn't glare back at them, nor did she try to appear intimidating. She merely strode into the village with her head held high and her glowing eyes as calm as the surface of a lake.

When she was close enough to the crowd, Alya finally stopped. Some of the Rossians jabbed their pitchforks and knives in her direction to try and scare her, but she didn't flinch a bit.

Scanning the crowd, Alya called out with the voice of a royal diplomat (assuming it sounded like one), "I request an audience with your mayor!"

The men exchanged confused and suspicious glances. Women poked their heads out of their houses while trying to shove their nosy children back inside.

Finally, a gruff man with a machete spat, "Be gone, she-demon! And take your bloody curse with you!"

Several of the villagers shouted in agreement... but then they winced at the sight of Alya's amber eyes, which burned with impatience.

"I know you're there, Lila!" Alya announced. "Come on out!"

There was more murmuring from the mob.

And then, a voice like frozen honey called, "Or what?"

Alya watched as the crowd parted and Mayor Lila – with her dark-green eyes gleaming sadistically at the redhead – stepped out.

"You'll huff, and you'll puff, and you'll blow the house down?" Lila asked with a dark giggle as she walked over to Alya. "You've got a lot of nerve showing your sorry face here in broad daylight, _Volpina_. To be honest, though, I was expecting a more dramatic entrance."

"Let's just say old habits die hard," Alya said without a hint of amusement.

"Hmm," Lila hummed as she gazed upon her old friend expressionlessly. "All right – I'm here. Come to apologise for all the lives you've stolen?"

Many of the Rossians gripped their weapons tightly.

Alya caught movement in the corner of her eye, but she did her utmost best to ignore it. "Believe it or not, I've come to make a bargain," she stated. "A trade."

Lila's eyebrow rose. "Really?" She let out a tiny cackle and called over her shoulder. "The beast thinks she has the right to bargain with the likes of us!"

One of the women cried out, "Don't listen to her!" and another said, "Kill the witch!" Then there were more shouts of, "No more Lost Ones!" and "We do not bargain with murderers!".

Now Alya was glaring at Lila, who was smirking at her wickedly. The redhead knew she was outmatched, and thanks to Lila's enchantment, none of the Rossians would listen to Alya no matter what she said.

So she didn't bother playing nice this time. " _Shut up!_ " she yelled, her aura slicing through the air like a red-hot poker.

The Rossians shrieked and stumbled back before falling into eerie silence once more.

Lila clicked her tongue. "Such a temper," she said. "I suppose it comes with the territory. But since you're so keen to speak out, speak. What sort of trade are you willing to make with me?"

Alya reeled in her magic before taking a deep breath and saying, "Cat Noir. I know you're keeping him prisoner. You let him go... and take _me_ instead."

A few gasps and whispers sounded from the crowd. They were blinking with confusion, and Alya caught snippets of "Prisoner? What is she...?" and "Wait... What happened to the boy again?"

Lila noticed and held up her hand. "As tempting as that offer is," she said, "I'm afraid I can't give you what you seek. Cat Noir left Rossi earlier this morning, heading somewhere north. Apparently, the news of his best friend's betrayal was quite a shock to his poor, blessed heart."

Alya felt it then: that wave of energy pulsing from the mayor and crashing softly against the Rossians. One by one, their eyes hardened with belief and they stood their ground once more.

But Alya just laughed, causing Lila's grin to immediately drop. " _You're_ one to talk about back-stabbing friends, Lila," the redhead spat. "I doubt the huntsman inflicted as much damage as _you_ did."

As the Rossians starting whispering again, Lila went up to Alya so that their noses were an inch apart. The mayor studied her up and down. Alya tried not to swallow.

 _Hurry, Nino._

Then Lila's green eyes bore into the redhead's amber ones. "I knew you were bold... but not _this_ bold," she said warily. "You're hiding something."

Alya smirked. "And I knew you were paranoid, but... well, actually you _do_ have a point."

Suddenly, there was a shrill scream coming from the village inn down the road.

Everyone snapped around just as someone burst through one of the second-floor glass windows with a hard _CRASH_ and landed unceremoniously in the water trough below. Some of the horses shrieked and bucked away as they got wet.

Then, the infiltrator heaved himself up, sputtering water and shaking his hair like a wet dog. "Whew! What a rush!" Nino exclaimed with a giddy grin.

Alya couldn't help but grin herself. "How's _that_ for a dramatic entrance?" she jeered at Lila.

The mayor rounded on her... but she was too late to stop her old friend from shrinking in a bright haze of light and dashing away on her four little paws.

* * *

Nino scrambled out of the trough, groaning from the heaviness of his clothes, when he heard Lila shriek from beyond the astonished crowd:

"The traitor is working with the monster! Grab him!"

 _Time to go_ , the huntsman thought as he made a mad dash down the road. The mob of Rossians charged after him.

Nino made his way down a small hill, where one of the chicken coops sat nested between two trees. Looking over his shoulder, he saw axes and arrows flying towards him and he swerved out of the way.

But as soon as he rounded the corner of the bird-infested hut, Nino jerked to a stop.

The gruff-looking man was grinning up at him, running one of his fingertips along his machete. "What's your hurry, boy?" he asked with false kindness. "Don't you want to say goodbye?"

Nino frowned at him and began backing away. Behind him, the shouts of the mob drew closer.

 _Alya..._

As if right on cue, the caged doors to the chicken coop burst open.

Nino yelped as a hoard of frantic chickens flew out in front of him, spraying feathers everywhere and clucking as though their lives depended on it.

The Rossian, unfortunately, got hit by the flock with full force and fell flat on his back, crying out and blindly trying to swat the birds away.

Curious, Nino looked over to the coop entrance... where he saw Alya's foxy face staring up at him proudly, her tail swishing excitedly.

The huntsman beamed at her and let out a small whoop before the two of them took off once more into the forest.

Fortunately for them, the rest of the villagers were so perplexed with the new modifications to their coop that they lost sight of Nino and Alya instantly.

* * *

At the top of the hill, Lila watched the whole ordeal with boiling anger.

"So..." she muttered with cold cruelty, "now we're playing a different game, are we? Very well, Alya dear. Now it's _my_ move."

Her green eyes darkened into ugly brown, and then crimson red.

"And this time," Lila growled as leaves blew in her wake, "you're going to lose."

* * *

Once they were safe and sound, Alya exchanged her fur and tail for skin and hair. She leaned against a large tree, smiling.

"Well, _that_ was fun," she said.

"Yeah," Nino panted behind her. "I saw you standing up to Lila from the window. That took some guts."

Alya was about to thank him... until she actually turned to look at Nino, and she covered her mouth with her hands, snorting loudly.

"What?" the huntsman asked. "What's so funny?"

This time, the shape-shifter didn't stop herself and she fell back against the tree laughing. "You...!" she gasped while pointing at him. "You're covered in _feathers_!"

Nino's eyes widened and he snapped down to see his body. Sure enough, there were tiny white and yellow bits of fluff plastered to his wet clothes and skin. He tried to brush some of them off, but they only stuck to his hands. Those that flew up only landed on him again and again.

Now Alya was cackling, her eyes tearing up.

Then, Nino was laughing.

Then _the trees_ were laughing. The leaves rustled together and the branches shook so hard in the wind that they groaned.

Alya gathered herself up and took a breather. "I bet your cat friend would've have loved to have seen all of that," she mused with a sniffle.

Her partner snorted. "Everything but the chicken part. He's allergic to feathers."

Then Alya laughed again.

"All right, all right, stop!" Nino moaned, though he was still smiling. "My pride's wounded enough already."

The shape-shifter smirked at him and folded her arms. "I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "I think it's a nice look for you. You could be a large bird and no one would know."

"Haha... Thanks for the tip. Now, do you want this or not?" The huntsman held up a black, leather glove in front of him.

Alya sighed and held out her hand with pleading eyes. "Pretty please," she sang.

Nino rolled his eyes and tossed it over to her. "Women," he grumbled.

" _Humans_."

"Touché."

Alya smiled and analyzed the black glove. "I'm surprised you actually found a piece of clothing from him," she said. "Just a pillow case or a blanket would have been fine, but this is perfect."

Nino stepped over to her. "You sure this will help us find him?" he asked hopefully.

"Positive. Trust me, huntsman. If there's one thing I can do, it's follow my nose." The redhead glanced up at him with a worried expression. "Sorry you had to go through all that mayhem to get this. You sure you're okay?"

He nodded. "It was worth it. Besides, we make a pretty good team."

Alya found herself blushing again for the third time since she met this dark-skinned daredevil. "I agree," she said with a curvy smile. "It's not every day a fox teams up with a chicken."

Nino scowled. "Not funny," he whined.

But she giggled anyway.


	10. Of Monsters and Magic: The Fox's Den

**OF MONSTERS AND MAGIC**

 _ **Chapter 4:**_

 _ **The Fox's Den**_

 _There once was a king who had three children._

 _It was a time of peace and plenty, but such things bored the king greatly._

 _Then, he happened upon the arcane arts._

 _Knowing his family wouldn't understand and his staff would abhor him, the king practiced magic in secret._

 _Until one day, one of his spells went horribly wrong._

 _His great castle sank into the earth that had once sustained it, swallowed whole like a living creature trapped in quicksand._

 _This lost monument was forevermore known as the Fallen Castle._

 _Overcome with horror and guilt, the king cast one last magic spell, sending his children and the rest of his people to safety... while he remained to die with his kingdom._

 _His three heirs went their separate ways, eventually forming the three kingdoms we know today._

 _And, as Fate would have it, one of their descendants found himself within the walls of his ancestor's forgotten home..._

* * *

 _Drip, drip, drip..._

Cat Noir groaned as water tickled his forehead. He always hated it when it rained.

But when he opened his eyes, he discovered that he wasn't surrounded by trees and fresh air... but thick, mucky stones. And iron bars.

Cat Noir bolted upright, his heart hammering.

He was in a dungeon cell!

Was it Hawkmoth? Had he finally captured the boy?

But the more he glanced around, the more Cat Noir realized that this wasn't the tower cells he remembered from Castle Agreste. They had been much cleaner and more airy than this.

Here, there was nothing through the barred windows but solid rock. The air was damp and muggy, and it reeked of worms. The cage-like door sealing Cat Noir inside was so rusted through it was a miracle they were still standing. Roots and stems broke through the cracks in the walls like skeletal fingers.

Cat Noir's brow furrowed. _Wait a minute..._ he thought. _Where did this dungeon come from? How did I get here? The last thing I remember, I was talking to..._ He paused, understanding finally catching up with him. "Lila," he whispered with a growl. "How could I have been so stupid?!"

Sucking on his teeth in frustration, the thief went up to the bars and peeked out.

Rolls of other cells lined the wall ahead of him. There weren't any guards he could see. It was dark, but there was a hint of orange light coming down the hall outside. There must be a torch somewhere. Which meant someone lived here.

"Hello?" Cat Noir called.

 _Hello... ello... lo..._

"Anybody here?!"

 _Body here... dy here... here..._

Then, a faint voice answered from the cell right in front of him, "Anybody..."

Cat Noir squinted, his eyes finally adjusting to the dark. Someone was moving in the corner of his own cell.

"Anybody... here?" the voice murmuring before chuckling. "Or nobody? All gone... nothing left..."

Cat Noir's eyes lit up with delight. "Kubdel!" His cry echoed through the hall. Wincing, Cat Noir pressed his face against the bars and whispered, "Are you all right? Where are we? Did Lila bring you here too?"

"Far below, far below..." Kubdel replied absent-mindedly, his blue eyes staring over at Cat Noir but not seeing him. "Down the hole we go... Down among the dead..."

The thief frowned with worry. "Kubdel, it's me – Cat Noir," he said. "Don't you remember? We met back in the forest."

Kubdel smiled and sighed against the bars. "Oh, beautiful forest, your roots run so deep..." he sang sourly, "Drink up the sun and wake from your sleep..."

 _He's mad_ , Cat Noir thought. _How long as he been down here?_ "Kubdel, listen to me. The Rossians, your people – they think you're dead. Alix went off into the woods looking for you."

Kubdel gasped, his eyes suddenly struck with horror. "Alix... Alix... Alix..." He fell onto his hands and knees, as though begging. "Don't hurt her, please. I'll do anything. Don't take her away from me!"

Cat Noir's eyes hardened. "Lila took her, didn't she?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "Where, Kubdel? Where did she go?"

Tears fell down the man's cheeks. "Alix... please... She's all I have!" he whimpered. "Alix... my brave little girl... my darling..."

Cat Noir couldn't help but pity the man. He of all people knew what it was like to lose a loved one.

So he spoke with firm assurance, "Don't worry. Alix is going to be all right. I've got the best huntsman in the three kingdoms looking for her."

* * *

Nino knelt on the ground, running his fingers along the tiny, human boot print embedded deep in the dirt. "Look at this," he said to Alya. "Someone else was here. Quite recently, in fact."

The shape-shifter peered down and nodded. "Good eye," she commented. "But who does it belong to?"

Nino glanced over the trail of other prints head of him. "Judging by the boot size, it can't be any older than an adult," he deduced. "And judging by the space between the prints, it looks like that person was in a hurry to get somewhere."

Alya's eyes glistened with worry. "Or _get away_ from somewhere," she suggested. "Or some _one_."

The huntsman stood up as an idea dawned on him. "Maybe it's Alix! Maybe she got away from Lila while she was trying to kill me. She can't be too far away."

"Hold on, Nino," Alya said as she took a deep breath. "Cat Noir's scent is coming from the same direction those prints are headed. Even if it _is_ Alix, it could be a trap."

"Well then," Nino said with a confident smile, "let's keep our eyes open. After you."

Alya led the way once more, sniffing around the trees to make sure which way the scent was strongest. She reminded Nino of a bloodhound, but he didn't dare say that out loud.

"I have to admit," the shape-shifter said as they trekked on, "that was impressive back there. Most hunters are just good at what they do, but _you_... You're a natural."

Nino's cheeks grew hotter and he rubbed the back of his sweaty neck. "It just comes natural to me, I guess," he said shyly. "Reading prints in the dirt, climbing trees, crouching in the grass... It makes me feel right at home."

Alya glanced back at him. "You don't have any other home to go to?" she asked.

The huntsman shook his head. "I lost my parents to smallpox when I was barely a toddler," he explained sadly. "Adri– _Cat Noir_ and his family took me in. But even then, I literally had to find my own way in the world."

His companion seemed to sag at that. "I know the feeling," she said. "My own mother passed away when I was a little girl, and... my father was killed only a few months ago."

Nino felt his heart freeze. "He was...? I'm so sorry," he uttered, biting his lip. "Your parents... Were they special like you?"

Alya blinked at him for a moment before smiling faintly. "Just my mum. My father was human." Her amber eyes went down to the ground, and Nino was certain it wasn't because she was looking for any prints. "Lila once said that my human blood made me an outcast, even as a shape-shifter. She said it was the only reason why I was always soft... and weak."

"Stop right there," Nino said suddenly, halting in his tracks. He put a hand on Alya's shoulder and affixed her with a firm but friendly stare. "Strength isn't about blood or power. It's about the choices we make and the people we count on. Lila _chose_ to hurt people, even kill – but _you_ didn't." He smiled at Alya. "Believe me, that takes a lot of effort."

She stared at him, her mouth opening and closing but unable to speak a word.

Nino removed his hand and looked away sheepishly. " _Me_ , on the other hand..." He let out a heavy sigh. "I've hunted and killed time and time again, and I never thought the world of it. Until recently."

Alya's eyes softened. "Why?" she asked delicately. "What happened?"

Suddenly, Nino wanted to punch himself in the face. _Great,_ now _what should I tell her? That I got brainwashed by a psychopathic king and nearly murdered my own best friend?_ But Nino knew that Alya would ask more questions, and while he knew he could trust her, the huntsman knew it wouldn't be fair to tell her about Adrien without his consent.

So all he said was, "Someone tried to turn me into a weapon too, and it almost got Cat Noir killed." He couldn't bring himself to look Alya in the eye. "He keeps telling me that it wasn't my fault, but... I still can't shake away the memory of it." A hard lump formed in his chest, and he clenched his shaking hands. "It's not something one can easily forget."

Nino could almost see his best friend pinned underneath him, begging the huntsman to come to his senses. Adrien had looked so terrified – not for himself, but for the boy who had been like a brother to him.

And now that same boy was out there somewhere, and Nino cursed himself for not staying with him... for not protecting him like he promised...

Warm fingers caressed his fist, sending a strange jolt up into Nino's body – as swift and peaceful as a summer breeze. It made him relax.

And when he finally looked up into Alya's eyes, they seemed to glow in the sunlight.

"I watched my father die," the shape-shifter said softly. "I still remember the feeling of his blood on my hands as I tried to save him. I still see the horror on his killers' faces when I tore their throats out... right in front of my little sisters."

Nino straightened. "You have sisters?"

She nodded and looked away, her face unreadable. "Not a day goes by when I don't think about them; when I don't see the shock in their eyes." She faced Nino again with more fervour. "But that's what encourages me to be better than what I am; to prove to my sisters – and myself – that I'm not a villain. I'd rather face my demons than let them control me."

Alya gripped Nino's loosened fingers tightly and the ghost of a smile appeared on her face. "Maybe it's time you faced yours."

Nino expected her to let go of his hand, walk away, and leave it at that. But she didn't drop his hand. She didn't look away.

And he didn't want her to.

Nino didn't exactly have the best childhood, but it had been good. He had Adrien. He had a home. He had a purpose in life.

Alya had been through far worse... and yet, _she_ still clung to hope even when the entire world stood against her.

If _she_ could make peace with her past, why couldn't Nino?

"Alya..." he said. That was the only word that came to mind. His fingers closed around hers, savouring the power she poured through them.

At that moment, Alya's head snapped to the left and her eyes furrowed like a wolf sensing a threat. "Someone's coming!" she hissed.

Nino's wits snapped back into place and he let go of her, drawing his twin hatchets and ducking behind a large tree.

Alya did the same on the other side, her skin rippling with light.

Then they both heard the ruffling of grass, the snapping of twigs, and the hasty thump of two feet coming towards them.

Nino and Alya exchanged a glance... and nodded simultaneously.

As one, they jumped out onto the open path.

The intruder screamed and fell backwards, her blue eyes wide with terror.

Alya gasped.

"Alix!" Nino cried, quickly lowering his weapons.

The pink-haired girl stared at him first, and then at Alya. As soon as she saw the shape-shifter, Alix inhaled sharply and crawled back.

Nino sheathed his hatchets and held up his hands. "Alix, it's all right," he said gently. "This is Alya – she's my friend. We're here to help you."

Alix's chest rose and fell as though out of breath. She clutched her hands tightly against her chest. "P-P-Please..." she begged. "My... My father..."

Nino bit his lip. "Alix... Your father's dead," he said with a tight throat. "You shouldn't have come out here. It's too dangerous."

Then the girl was shaking her head furiously. "No! No! My father... She took him!" She glanced over at Alya as she stammered, "V-Volpina! I saw her! On a... a hill with stones...!"

Nino sighed. "Alya isn't Volpina, Alix. It was really..."

"Hold on," Alya said, causing the huntsman to look at her.

He watched confusedly as Alya sank to her knees in front of Alix. The girl stiffened as the shape-shifter drew near.

"Alix," Alya murmured with the tone of an older sister. "This hill with stones... Can you tell me what you saw there?"

The girl blinked at her several times, her eyes softening each time. Then she nodded. "I... I saw my father... and Volpina. And there was a hole – a hole in the ground. They went into it. They didn't come back out."

Alya's eyes widened. "Of course!" she breathed. " _That's_ where she's been taking them!"

"You, uh, want to fill me in?" Nino suggested.

Alya looked up at him. "The Fallen Castle," she clarified. "It's an ancient ruin that's buried at the top of the Old Great Hill." She let out half-a-laugh. " _That's_ why I've never been able to track down the missing Rossians – Lila's been hiding them _underground_ , inside the castle!"

Nino went pale as straw. "Underground?" he gulped.

"Yes," Alya replied as she stood up and helped Alix to her feet, "and I bet you Cat Noir is down there too. We find him, we find Kubdel and the other Lost Ones."

The huntsman nearly fainted. "Super," he croaked.

The shape-shifter smirked at him. "What's the matter, huntsman? Afraid to get dirty?"

Nino flushed. "If you must know, I'm a little nervous when it comes to close spaces."

"Aww," Alya cooed. "Don't worry – I'll protect you."

" _That's_ reassuring."

The shape-shifter rolled her eyes and dusted Alix off and before bending over to face her. "We're going to find your father, Alix," she said. "Just stay with us and you'll be safe, okay?"

Alix nodded. "Do you think... he's still alive down there?" she asked hesitantly.

"I know he is." Alya looked at Nino. "Don't you?"

He gritted his teeth and offered a forced smile. "He's with Cat Noir," he replied. "If anyone's capable of surviving, it's _him_."

* * *

 _CRASH!_

The rusty, iron door broke open with an ear-ringing blast and then clattered noisily along the stones.

Cat Noir flinched, but at least he was free.

 _Lock picks? Ha! All I needed was a good kick._

The young thief rushed over to Kubdel's cell. "Hold on, buddy – I'll get you out of there."

But the Rossian man was shaking his head and running his hands through his hair. "The stones... the stones will hear... They're watching... Always watching..."

Cat Noir took a step back, took a deep breath, and imagined the door was Hawkmoth.

Then, he kicked.

 _CLANG! SCREECH!_

The old thing snapped off its hinges like a twig and fell to the side.

Grinning, Cat Noir rushed over and rubbed Kubdel's shoulder in a friendly, assuring manner. The man was still trembling badly.

 _What's wrong with him?_ Cat Noir thought worriedly. "Come on, Kubdel," he said softly, pulling on his arm. "Let's get out of here. Let's go find Alix."

Just then, Kubdel grasped his arm in an iron grip and locked horrified eyes on him. "No!" he practically screamed in the thief's face. "She knows! _She knows!_ "

Cat Noir tried to squirm free, his green eyes wide with bewilderment.

Then, he watched as Kubdel's blue eyes turned the colour of a dark forest.

Then, the Rossian smiled. Cruelly.

Then, he rose up and heaved the struggling thief up with him.

"Apologises, _Your Highness_ ," he said with in a weird, almost-feminine manner, "but I've still got grand plans for both of you."

Cat Noir frowned. He knew those eyes. " _Lila_."

"Guilty as charged," Kubdel said with a not-so-innocent sigh. "Now then, unless you want to watch your dear old friend here drop dead at your feet, you'll do exactly as I tell you."

The young thief pinched his lips together angrily before stating, "I'm not going to let you get away with this. None of us will."

Kubdel's eyebrows shot up. "Oh? Do you mean your loyal, annoying huntsman?" He giggled so sweetly it was almost nauseating. "Funny you should mention him. He's on his way here right now – just as I planned.

 _And I was the bait_. Cat Noir growled and grabbed Kubdel's shoulder roughly. "If you hurt him...!"

"Ah-ah-ah!" Kubdel cooed with a sneer, those green eyes that weren't his gleaming with sadistic desire. "Careful now. We wouldn't want things to get _out of hand_ , would we?"

Cat Noir breathed through his nose... but he let go of the enchanted Rossian with a grunt. "All right, Lila," the thief grumbled. "What do want with me?"

Kubdel lifted his chin proudly. "There's a special presentation at the grand hall, and you're my guest of honour." He held out his hand. "Shall I have Kubdel escort you there... or should I just crack his mind like an egg and hunt you down myself? In this castle, there's no telling where you'll end up."

Cat Noir glared at him.

 _Nino, wherever you are, I hope you find us._

He took Kubdel's hand firmly. "Lead the way, _Madame Mayor_. Or would you prefer _Volpina_?"

The bewitched man chuckled. "I really don't see the difference," he said as he yanked his reluctant companion out of the cell.

* * *

The "hill with stones" Alix had mentioned was unlike anything Nino had ever seen.

Well, it wasn't that he'd never seen the topmost parts of a castle before – he had grown up in one, after all.

He just never saw the topmost parts of a castle at _ground level_.

Chunks of broken spires stuck out of the earth like twisted candles on a cake. Some of them were miraculously still standing, held together by centuries-worth of vines and weeds. They looked more like rock than stone, having spent so long out in the open elements. Only upon close inspection did Nino actually recognise them as towers.

It still came as quite the conundrum to him. "So... the entire castle sank into the ground?" he asked Alya. "What kind of disaster caused this?"

The shape-shifter shoved her way through a patch of tall grass towards him. Alix never left her side.

"Magic, of the powerful kind," Alya said as she looked over the ruins with a disheartened expression. "Goes to show you what happens when you have too much power and don't keep it restrained."

Nino wondered if Hawkmoth was capable of such a feat. He wished he would never find out.

He turned to Alix. "All right, Alix, now where exactly did you see Volpina and your father?"

The girl pointed sideways. "Over there," she said, "by that weird-looking rock."

Nino and Alya looked where she was pointing.

All these "rocks" looked weird, but this particular one reminded the huntsman of clenched fist, like that of a giant. Maybe it used to be part of a great statue.

The group gathered around the rock, and that's when Nino saw it – a small, metal grate cleverly concealed by vines and grass.

"Alya, over here!"

She and Alix hustled over to Nino as the huntsman tore and lifted the foliage away. The grate was just as old as the towers, but still intact.

Nino smiled up at his companions. "Shall I ring the bell and see who answers?" he asked humorously.

"That would _kind of_ defeat the purpose of sneaking in," Alya pointed out with a smirk.

"Yeah, you're right. And we're outlaws, so what does it matter?" With that, the huntsman lifted the grate door open with an effortless heave.

It was surprisingly not that dark inside. And lo and behold, there was a ladder.

Alya went first, checking for any threats or traps. After a moment, she beckoned Nino and Alix down.

Nino was amazed to find himself standing in a full-length hallway lined with torches. "How long did you say this castle was down here?" he asked.

"Hundreds of years," Alya replied as she took a sniff of Cat Noir's glove again. "The rock and dirt preserved some parts of the structure while the rest got crushed by the pressure. That's my guess, anyway."

Nino suddenly felt claustrophobic. "Let's just find our friends and get out of here before _Madame Mayor_ finds out we're crashing her party," he grumbled. "Which way?"

Alya breathed in, and turned to the left direction. "Follow me."

She led them hastily down the hall, stopping only at other passages or doorways to make sure she was going the right way. Nino followed without question, impressed that she could smell anything through all this earth and rock.

 _Hang in there, Adrien._

It was only when they came to another pair of tunnels when Alix starting pulling on Nino's sleeve. "Stop!" she whispered. "Listen!"

Nino paused. Alya did the same.

"I don't hear anything," the huntsman said. "Alya?"

She shook her head.

But Alix kept pulling and pointing towards the tunnel on the right. "That's my father's voice!" she exclaimed, her face the picture of joy. "He's down there! He's calling my name!"

Nino froze. _Shit_. "Alix, listen to me," the huntsman said as he tried to get the frantic girl's attention. "Wherever you think you're hearing, it's not real."

"He's right," Alya insisted. "We have to go left. It's the only way."

But now Alix was wrestling furiously out of Nino's grip. "No! He's _there_! I can't lose him again! _I can't!_ "

And before the huntsman could get a better hold on her, the Rossian girl stomped on his foot.

"OW!" Nino yelled as he unconsciously let go and staggered back.

Alix vanished into the darkness in the blink of an eye.

"Alix, wait! Come back!" Alya cried, her voice pounding off the walls. "Alix!"

Wincing from the pain in his foot, Nino put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'll go get her. You keep looking for Cat Noir and the others. I'll catch up."

As he approached the mouth of the tunnel, Alya reached out to him and said, "Wait! What if you get lost?"

Nino glanced over his shoulder with a grin. "I can smell you, remember?" He winked at her reaction and then took off into the tunnel.

Behind him, he could have sworn he heard the shape-shifter giggling.

Ignoring his stubbed foot, the huntsman ran on, running his fingers along the wall when torchlight wasn't good enough to see with.

"Alix!" Nino called, pausing to listen for a reply. He heard none.

Then, he came to another pair of tunnels.

Glancing between them, Nino cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted, "Alix!"

The stones seemed to shrink away from his voice.

Then, he heard a faint cry of "Papa!" coming from the left tunnel.

Nino broke into a run and followed the path until at last, he found the pink-haired girl staring at a blank wall with her back turned to him.

Panting, the huntsman strode up to her. He was frustrated with her, but he knew she was acting out of her love for the father she thought was dead.

Then, Alix made soft, wheezy sounds, like she was crying.

Nino sighed and knelt beside her. "It's all right, Alix," he whispered calmly. "It's going to be –"

His next words caught in his throat when the Rossian girl looked up at him.

She wasn't crying – she was _giggling_.

And those blue eyes of hers were now a dark, eerie shade of green.

"I knew you would follow her, huntsman," Alix said in an adult voice that was _definitely_ not hers. "After all..."

Then she groaned and nearly toppled over Nino, burying her face in her hands.

Then, a new voice behind them finished, "... what brave hero _wouldn't_ try to save a helpless, lonely child?"

Nino snapped around, his face already prepared for an angry stare-down.

Lila sneered at him a few feet away, her hands on her hips and her green eyes flashing with amusement. "Welcome to the Fallen Castle, huntsman," she purred. "You're just in time for all the fun."

"I'm afraid this isn't a courtesy call, Lila," Nino spat, keeping Alix behind him with one hand while reaching for one of his hatchets with the other. "Now what have you done with Cat Noir?"

"Ah, of course – the noble bodyguard coming to rescue his royal liege-lord," Lila mused, snickering at Nino's shocked expression. "Oh, don't give me that. I caught his princely perfume in my house before I even laid eyes on him. Just like I caught your musky odour while you were snooping around in Rossi."

Nino's face fell. "You _wanted_ me to find that glove," he said before glaring at the evil shape-shifter once more. "And you used Alix as bait to lure me here! But... why me?"

And in the back of his mind, he thought about Alya. Was she trapped somewhere as well? Was she running _into_ a trap? The huntsman's blood churned. Had he unwittingly put another person he cared about in mortal danger?

Lila fiddled with her fingernails in a bored manner. "Isn't it obvious? I couldn't have you and your _humane_ behaviour corrupting my former apprentice, now could I?" She grinned wickedly at the huntsman. "Now I can finally get my friend back. Can't say the same for you, unfortunately."

Nino drew both his hatchets in a second.

Lila snapped her fingers in a heartbeat.

Then, the ground let out a sickly groan.

Nino felt the stones leave his feet before he broke through them. Thinking fast, he immediately grabbed onto Alix as they both tumbled into the darkness.

Alix screamed and clung to the huntsman's neck like a sloth, nearly suffocating him.

A breath of a second into their fall, Nino realized he was still holding his hatchets.

With a great effort, he raised them over his head and drove them into the earthy wall in front of him.

Dirt sprayed everywhere, blinding him and filling his mouth. His arms shrieked from the grinding jolt, but he forced himself to hang on.

Finally, he and Alix slid to a stop.

Coughing and spitting out bits of brown, Nino checked to make sure Alix was safe before glancing down into the abyss before them. His lungs shrank when he saw the tips of sharp, stony spikes poking out towards them. He prayed Alix wouldn't look down...

Too late. She did. And now Nino's face was turning blue from the grip she had on his neck.

Keeping a firm hold on his embedded hatchets, Nino looked up at the tiny, golden hole above them.

A tiny face framed by long, brown hair peered down at them and laughed.

"As much as would love to watch you both squirm around like fish on a hook," Lila called down, "I'm afraid I have a long-awaited reunion with my apprentice. Fret not, huntsman – I'll tell Alya and your prince that you said goodbye." She waved down at him and sang, "Goodbye-eye!" Then she burst out cackling and retreated from the hole.

Nino growled, but he didn't have the strength to curse the witch or call her back.

All he could do was hang on and worry about two things: the frightened girl on his back, and the sharp spikes taunting them from below.


	11. Of Monsters and Magic: Crashing Down

**OF MONSTERS AND MAGIC**

 _ **Chapter 5:**_

 _ **Crashing Down**_

 _"Who is the monster that lurks in the night?_

 _Who is the shadow that feeds its heart?_

 _Who is the hunter who lifts his axe?_

 _Who is the axe that tears monsters apart?_

 _Monster and shadow, disturb me not_

 _Hunter and axe, take not my life_

 _Oh, great moon above, will you not weep?_

 _Sing for your children, and bring us to sleep"_

 _\- An excerpt from the Agrestian nursery rhyme, "Monster and Shadow"_

* * *

There was light ahead... and warmth. Alya could feel it soaking into the stones.

Cat Noir's scent was stronger now. She was close.

But there was another scent now – foul and familiar. _Lila._

Alya's eyes glimmered bitterly as she strode out of the tunnel, silent as a shadow.

She emerged in a massive chamber that stretched out in all directions. Lit braziers hung from the walls, and a large, metal chandelier – held high by a single rope – hung at an awkward angle in the middle of the cracked ceiling. Marble columns – some broken, some not – bordered the grand hall, making it look and feel like an enormous cage.

And tied to some of those columns were people. She recognised Kubdel among them, his head sagged forward as though in shame.

The Lost Ones.

Keeping her eyes and nose out for Lila, Alya ran up to one of the pillars, where three women were sitting and leaning on each other for support. But when the shape-shifter approached them, their heads rose up and their eyes widened. With fear or relief, Alya wasn't certain.

So she moved on to another column. This one had several children tied together, all of them either crying silently or keeping quiet.

On the third, Alya finally found a pair of young men who looked to be in their twenties or late teens. "Cat Noir?" she asked softly, hoping one of them would answer.

The two pasty lads gasped at the sight of her, but neither one said anything.

Alya sighed... and then her ears picked up a whisper not too far away: "Who's asking?"

The shape-shifter followed the sound to a few pillars down, where one boy was tied up alone and standing upright. Alya recognised him from the night she met Nino: tuffs of golden hair and green eyes that would make a princess swoon.

 _Well, he's certainly_ dressed _like a cat_ , Alya thought. "A friend of your friend," she responded as she began fiddling with Cat Noir's rope bonds. "Nino sent me here to get you out."

The boy's face lit up, but then it fell. "Where is he? Is he all right?"

Alya paused, suddenly realizing that her companion and Alix have been gone for too long. _They should've been back by now._ "I... I don't know," she admitted with a pang. "We got separated."

Cat Noir sighed. "Well... he _does_ tend to get lost in castles," he said with attempted optimism. "Believe me."

Alya tried to smile, but that unnerving fear lingered.

She grunted when the ropes refused to loosen. "I'm going to have to bite into them," she said as she stood back.

He raised an eyebrow at her. "I not sure if that will..." he began.

"Just trust me, okay? And try not to freak out."

"How pathetic," came a cold voice.

Alya spun around. _Damn it – I should've sensed her coming!_

Lila strode up from across the hall towards them, her face unreadable. The Rossians shrank back in their spots, sounding like they were trying to hold their breath. Alya couldn't blame them. Lila's scent was just as unclean as her soul.

"You've spent so much time with these humans, Alya," Lila drawled with a hint of disgust, "their behaviour is beginning to rub off on you." She sniffed at the air and crunched her nose. "You even _smell_ like them. It's _revolting_."

Alya stood her ground and glared at her former friend. "Are you going to continue toying with me, Lila," she declared loud enough for everyone to hear, "or are you going to grow a backbone and fight me yourself?"

Lila snorted. " _You're_ one to talk of backbone. At least _I_ don't cower behind any lousy boyfriends." Her dark-green eyes gleamed cruelly. "Then again, neither do you now."

The way she said those words made Alya's insides turn soggy. _No_ , she thought, _not him too_. "What did you do to Nino?" she demanded, though her voice shook.

Behind her, she heard Cat Noir stiffen; felt his heartbeat pause.

"Would you prefer a lie to make it feel better?" Lila asked. "You always were the sensitive one."

It was as though the air had been sucked right out of Alya's lungs. She suddenly felt light-headed, and her core was deprived of warmth. _Nino..._

She had only known him for one day. But she would've given up her miserable life for that one day. Nino had understood her, he had trusted her, and he had been... her friend. Her first and only _real_ friend; the first person her heart had opened up to after her father died.

And now... she was alone again.

Alya barely heard Cat Noir thrashing against his bonds.

"You're going to pay for that, you monster!" Nino's friend shouted with heartbroken fury.

Lila extended a hand to him. "You see now, Alya? Humans are far too quick to judge." She began pacing back and forth in front of her distraught captives. "He sees a monster, I see a hero. Instead of mourning the loss of one insignificant human life, you should be thanking me for ridding you of the one thing that's been holding you back." She sighed with a soft hum. "It matters not. What's done is done. And now, you can finally embrace your true power, as you were meant to."

Tears blurred Alya's vision as she glared up at the brunette. "I never wanted power!" she yelled, her amber eyes flaming and her voice feral. "I never wanted _any of it_! I just wanted to be accepted for who I am!"

Lila whirled on her, her face dark with anger. " _I_ accepted you, you stupid, lovesick idiot!" she snapped. "I _trained_ you! I took you in when all others would have killed you for your pelt!" She took a long, agonizing breath. "And _still_ you try to play the liberalist," she snarled with bared teeth.

Alya seethed. She could feel the fox inside her clawing inside her skin, fighting to break out. Her arms started to ripple with light, and her fingernails slowly lengthened.

"Ooh..." Lila grinned at her. "Are you going to kill me, Alya?" She spread out her arms coaxingly. "Go ahead – it should be a walk in the woods for you. You slaughtered your father's killers easily enough, and they outnumbered you five to one. Did you ever tell the huntsman about that day? Did you mention how much you _enjoyed_ tearing them to pieces?"

That did it. " _Shut up!_ " Alya yelled as she unconsciously raised a hand towards the brunette.

Light and wind and heat burst from her palm.

It hit Lila directly in the chest, sending her flying back. The mayor collapsed in a rolling heap, her hair tangled and sticking out in several directions.

Cat Noir and many of the Rossians gasped... but none so loudly as Alya.

She stared at her hand. Not horrified, but still quite shocked. Amazed, even. _That was... Was that..._ me _?_

Had she finally tapped into that hidden reservoir of magic that years of training and isolation failed to accomplish? But... how? Why now? Where had that come from?

A proud laugh answered her.

Lila rose up from the ground in a flurry of blown hair and skirts, her smile the epitome of wicked delight. "You feel it, don't you?" she asked with a melodic chuckle. "The rush of magic, the strength flowing through your veins... Love cannot give you any of that, Alya. Only fear and desire can."

Alya lowered her hand. It was shaking now. That wildfire that she had unleashed seemed to burn out, but the memory of it still rocked her bones.

"You can't protect anyone," Lila continued as she walked over to her old friend, "not your huntsman, not your father, not even your sisters. And you can never change who you really are."

Alya watched Lila as the latter circled around and stepped over to Cat Noir, whose wide eyes narrowed as she drew closer.

"If the huntsman's death hasn't proven that to you yet," the brunette grumbled, "then maybe _this_ will."

With lightning-fast movement, Lila yanked Cat Noir's head back by the hair, exposing his neck.

Lila smiled darkly at Alya. "Kill him," she commanded.

It took a moment for the redhead to register those words. When she did, her face twisted with defiance. "No, I won't!" she snapped.

"Yes, you will," Lila said with all the confidence in the world. "Because if you don't, _I_ will." She leaned closer to Cat Noir and brushed her lips against his ear, making him flinch. "And I intend to take my sweet time with him. It's not every day you get to feast on a prince, after all."

Alya blinked. _Prince?_

Huh. That _actually_ explained that metallic scent of gold amongst the aromas of apples and wildflowers.

Cat Noir was staring up at the ceiling, but his words were directed to Alya. "You don't have to listen to her. She doesn't control you."

"Quiet," Lila growled.

"Alya..." Cat Noir said firmly, which got the redhead's full attention. "I once trusted someone with all my heart, and then I found out that he was using me the whole time." He struggled from Lila's grip and went on, "It hurts; believe me... but that doesn't mean you can't put your faith in anyone else. And the only way to do that... is to have faith in yourself."

For the second time in her life, Alya was astounded by the selfless act of a human.

"I said _quiet_!" Lila gave Cat Noir a shake before snapping back to her fellow shape-shifter with glowing eyes. "What's it going to be, Alya? I'm not waiting forever!"

For one split second, Alya was back in the forest. She smelled the trees, she smelled earth under her boots...

She smelled Nino: driftwood, grass, sweat... and chocolate.

She heard his voice, like he was standing right beside her: _Strength isn't about blood or power. It's about the choices we make and the people we count on._

Alya's eyes burned once more. Only this time, they burned with a different kind of magic; a controlled, soothing flame compared to the wild inferno she had before.

"All right..." she said without a hint of remorse. "I've made my choice."

As she expected, Lila smiled.

"I knew you'd understand," the brunette said as she released Cat Noir.

Alya didn't bother to apologise to the black-clad prince as she transformed right in front of him.

Cat Noir gaped down at her: emerald green into sun-like amber.

And as Lila stepped away, Alya padded forward and loosed a throaty growl.

* * *

While Alya was facing Lila, Nino was facing dirt.

His arms were now throbbing, his biceps burning from overuse. His shoulder sockets were straining from having to hold up two different weights at once.

And speaking of which... "You good back there, kiddo?" Nino groaned calmly to Alix.

Her only response was, "Are we going to die?"

Nino tested one of his hatchets, half buried in the wall. He tried giving it a good wiggle. It seemed to come loose.

That gave him an idea.

"Nah, I don't think so," the huntsman squeaked with optimism. "I just... wish I had a better plan than this." He took a few good breaths before saying, "Hang on tight – we're going up."

Alix obeyed and kept her arms wrapped firmly around his neck.

Once Nino loosened the hatchet, he broke into a slight bounce. Then, with his feet braced against the wall, he launched himself upward. He quickly dug the free hatchet back in the dirt, and once that was secure, he began loosening the other one.

In this way, the huntsman and his little passenger climbed.

It hurt his arms like never before, but Nino knew it was a better alternative to getting skewered alive on the spikes below.

Then, Alix whimpered into his back, "This is my fault."

Nino paused for a moment so he could hear her. "Say again?"

"If I hadn't gone into the forest, none of this would have happened," Alix said, her voice cracking. "I wasn't strong enough. And now my father... and your friend..." She began shaking. "I ruined everything."

Nino knew the shaking would make their odds of surviving shrink, so he quickly said, "Hey, kid... I'm going to tell you a story."

In truth, he wasn't. He was just trying to get the girl to calm down.

And it worked... sort of. "How's _that_ going to help us?" Alix snipped with a sniffle.

 _Tough kid, I'll give her that_. "Just listen, all right? Trust me – you'll like this one."

He took her silence as a solid "sure". Or maybe a "whatever".

As Nino went back to climbing, he tried to think of something that Alix would understand; something that would relate to her predicament.

But instead, he thought about Alya.

Her smile, her laugh, her wise yet sultry demeanour, the way her eyes sparkled in the sun... the way her scent changed as quickly as her mood. Baked apples, honey and pinecones when happy; roaring fires, sharp spices and candle wax when agitated.

 _I'd rather face my demons than let them control me. Maybe it's time you faced yours._

And just like that, Nino had his story.

"There once was a... a _wolf_ who lived in a house of cats," the huntsman began. "They raised him as a pup and made him a part of their family." He continued to climb by pacing himself to the rhythm of the story: bury, lift, pull out, bury, lift, pull out...

"But one day, the wolf tried to eat one of the cats," Nino narrated. "It was as if something had turned him into the hungry, savage beast he was born to be." His brown eyes stared absent-mindedly at the opening above for a moment. "He just... followed his instincts."

Alix angled her head so that she could try and look at the huntsman. "And... What happened to the cat?" she asked hesitantly.

Nino grinned and went back to climbing. "Well now, _that's_ the interesting part. The cat didn't try to fight back. He didn't beg or run away or anything. He just... waited for the wolf to strike. He couldn't blame the guy. I mean, how can you possible change a wolf's nature?"

"So, the cat just... forgave the wolf?" Alix asked in pure disbelief.

"Yes," Nino replied boldly, his pounding heart kicking back into gear with that single word. "Because after everything they'd been through, the cat still loved the wolf. To the very end." Nino stopped for breath. His hands now had blisters, and they made his eyes water. But he gritted his teeth and kept going.

 _Adrien didn't give up on me then. I can't give up on myself now!_

"At that moment," Nino continued, "the wolf spared the cat's life. He decided that he didn't want to be a monster anymore. It didn't matter that he was a natural killer. What mattered was that he had been raised to be a good wolf. A fighter... _and_ a protector." He glanced over at Alix and smiled. "And nothing and no one could ever change that."

The pink-haired Rossian seemed to smile at that.

And when Nino looked back up, he was actually surprised to see the top of the hole they had dropped into... only an arm's length in front of him!

 _How about that?_

This time, Nino drove both hatchets into the wall and braced his feet. "All right, Alix," he said. "On the count of three, I want you to grab the ledge with me. We'll get of this together, okay?"

The girl tensed. "But what if I fall?"

"You won't fall. I won't let you fall. I promise."

Alix inhaled deeply, and then furrowed her brow with determination. "Okay."

"Good. Ready?" Nino fell back into a crouch. "One... two..." _Gods, I hope this works_. "... three!"

Two hands – a large tanned one and a small pale one – shot up and grabbed the edge of the opening.

Nino bid Alix to climb up and over. His back sighed with relief once she was off him. Then the huntsman ripped both hatchets out of the earth, tossed them over, and heaved himself up with all the remaining strength he had left.

As soon as he rolled along the stone floor of the castle hallway, Nino let out a great gust of air and his sore muscles groaned. Or maybe that was him. Either way, he had never been so happy to be alive.

The huntsman looked over to see Alix on her hands and knees, panting and laughing at the same time.

"Nice job, little wolf," Nino saluted. "You're a real hero."

Once they were both inching back onto their feet, Alix smiled at her saviour and said, "Thank you, Nino. For forgiving me."

That made him smile too. He should be the one thanking _her_ , for reminding him to never give up on himself, but he decided to save that for latter. Alya and Cat Noir were still in danger, and so were Kubdel and the other Lost Ones.

"You're welcome," Nino said as he scooped up his weapons and straightened like a wolf on the hunt. "Now... let's go save the rest of our pack."

* * *

Alya saw the fear in Cat Noir's eyes as she approached him.

But there was also understanding in them, as though facing his own death wasn't entirely new to him.

Thankfully, Lila was too busy admiring the prince's reaction to notice the little red vixen wink at her so-called prey.

Only when Cat Noir blinked at Alya and a tiny grin began to form did Lila finally get curious and turn to her furry friend.

That's when Alya struck.

Lila gasped as the creature leaped at her. She instinctively raised an arm to shield her face, and in doing so, gave Alya something to sink her fangs into.

"AH!" Lila's scream resounded through the grand hall as she fell backwards and wrestled with the vixen in a frenzy of red fur and brown hair.

But then Alya finally let go and pounced over to stand in front of Cat Noir, her back arched and her little red fangs gleaming at Lila.

The brunette staggered back up, caressing her bleeding arm with a look of pure ferocity: pupils dilated, teeth clenched and cheeks flushed. "You little bitch!" she yelled at Alya. "You _bit_ me!"

The vixen merely snapped her jaws at her former friend, her threatening snarl causing Lila to reel back even more.

Cat Noir snorted behind her. "Looks like the apprentice is now the master," he gloated with charming smugness.

Alya almost smiled at that, but she knew there would be time for that later... assuming she survived what was coming next.

But she had made her decision, and she was sticking with it. For her father, and for Nino.

Suddenly, the air around Lila began to prickle and pop like fire, and tendrils of red energy snaked around her body. Her murderous glare was heightened when the deep greens of her eyes changed into sharp, glowing rubies.

"I should've known," Lila hissed at Alya. "You have too much human blood in you!" Her anger seemed to strengthen her transformation; egg it on faster. "And now...!" the mayor of Rossi yelled, "I'm going to enjoy spilling _every last drop_!"

With a violent roar, Lila's body vanished in a whirl of red and smoke.

When it cleared, a monstrous brown-and-orange fox appeared. _Volpina_ had appeared.

Most of the Rossians cried out in terror.

Alya stepped out into the open chamber and barked at the large fox, challenging her.

Volpina snarled and dug her claws into the ground, leaving deep carving marks in the stones.

Alya knew her opponent outmatched her in both size and raw power. But _she_ was quicker and more nimble, and all she needed was a good bite to the neck to bring Volpina down.

As the two shape-shifters sized each other up, Alya heard someone call her name.

No, not someone – _Nino!_

Alya's heart elated. She looked past Volpina just in time to see the dorky-eyed huntsman with Alix at his side. One of Nino's hatchets was already poised to throw at the thick rope that held the metal chandelier in the air.

The vixen didn't need to look to see what she and Volpina were standing under.

With a sly grin worthy of her fox nature, Alya snapped at her opponent.

The oblivious Volpina leapt on top of her.

Or so, it seemed... until the little red vixen danced and zipped out of the way in a slippery motion before barking at Nino. _Now!_

The huntsman's hatchet went flying.

Then... a sharp _SNAP!_

The hulk of metal that was the chandelier fell... right on top of Volpina before she could so much as look up.

The ear-splitting sound of metal crashing on rock shook the ground, almost sending Alya off her paws.

But once it ended, Alya shook her fur free of glass and dust before turning around.

Glass and gems scattered along the floor like raindrops. The curved, rusted spikes stuck out from the ground like talons. The rest lay in nothing but a heap of twisted metal.

There was nothing but silence. No one took a single breath.

 _She's gone_ , Alya thought. It wasn't relief flooding through her, or remorse. It was... just pure incredulity.

Nino said to Alix, "Get the others," before strolling cautiously up to the metal ruin on the floor.

Alya padded over as well, sniffing out for Volpina's scent. Somehow, somewhere in her gut, she had the feeling this wasn't over yet.

Alix went for Cat Noir first. As soon as he was free, many of the Rossians started murmuring amongst themselves excitedly:

"The beast is gone!"

"Volpina is slain!"

"Is the curse over? Are we free?"

Alya would've rolled her eyes at them, but foxes couldn't do that.

Nino dug and poked through the chandelier pieces, his brow scrunched. "I can't see her," he called over to Alya.

She heeded him and took a step closer.

That's when she heard it: a heartbeat.

Her amber eyes widened with horror. _Nino!_ The name came out as a frantic yelp.

But it was too late.

 _CRASH!_

An explosion of rust and glass and metal... and then Alya was flying backwards.

She heard Alix scream, as did a few others. She heard Cat Noir shouting Nino's name.

Alya toppled along the ground, letting out a high-pitched whimper. Something dug into her shoulder – probably a piece of glass – and one of her back paws was sprained.

But her eyes flew open, determined to find Nino.

Her changed heart froze in her changed body.

Volpina was standing in the centre of the explosion, where an array of chains and metal spikes encompassed her in a broad ring. She was covered in red gauges and scratches, but she was more angry than hurt.

And hanging from the tips of her jaws, unconscious with a large gash on his forehead, was the huntsman.

Alya's terror melted into hot iron. _Her_ huntsman!

Volpina shook Nino's body vigorously before tossing him away. He fell along the ground without as much as a stir.

Then the monstrous fox looked over at Alya... and flashed her fangs in a triumphant sneer.

"Nino!" Cat Noir yelled as he picked up a jagged piece of metal and charged at the monster that had hurt his friend.

But all she had to do was knock the prince away with a swipe of her massive snout. He collided hard with one of the marble pillars and fell groaning upon the ground.

Alya watched on in despair. _We can't stop her. Nothing can stop her!_

 _This is all my..._

"Leave him alone!"

Both shape-shifters turned towards the source of that small but chivalrous voice.

Alya's fox-bones rattled.

It was Alix!

The pink-haired girl bore no trace of fear as she stepped between Volpina and Cat Noir and stated, "You're not hurting anyone ever again!"

Now all eyes were upon Alix, including her father's. Kubdel went white as the marble in the chamber and squirmed against his bonds. A few others did the same, shouting for Volpina to stop... but there was no pleading in their tones.

Even Cat Noir seemed perplexed as he struggled to regain his senses.

But all Volpina did was laugh, which came out as a monstrous huff. With her red eyes locked solely on Alix, she sank into a deep crouch.

At that moment, something awoke inside Alya. Not anger. Not grief. Not fear. Not bloodlust. Just... passion. And a desire to protect.

Hurting Nino was one thing... but wanting to hurt a _defenceless child_?

Suddenly, it wasn't Alix she was seeing there. It was her two twin sisters – their matching eyes, just like Alya's, refusing to give in to the monster before them.

And then... Alya felt her core ignite like never before.

And with a brave roar, she ran forward like never before.

Volpina had already leapt into the air, her claws mere inches from Alix's face, when Alya collided with her.

There was a crash, followed by a sickening, fleshy sound.

Alya landed hard on the floor. The light inside her veins dimmed, and she had human arms and legs again. Her auburn hair fell over her sweaty face.

Groaning, she felt gentle hands on her shoulders.

"Are you all right?" It was Cat Noir.

Alix was there as well, safe and sound.

Alya rubbed her head. It felt like she had slammed into a boulder. "I've been better," she admitted as she struggled to rise up.

The prince supported her the entire way, and only when Alya was back on her feet again did her blurred vision fix itself.

Only then did she see a horrible sight.

She gasped. _I... I didn't... I was only trying to..._

But the scene before her could not be undone, no matter what excuses she made.

Her heart sinking, Alya walked over to the human woman who lay before her.

Lila was grasping the metal spike that stuck out cleanly through her abdomen, as though to try and pull it out. Her breathing came out in wet wheezes, and blood dripped from her mouth. Her green eyes were dimming, as though the magic within her was slowly dying out – much like its master.

The moment she saw Alya kneel beside her, Lila glared at her with all her remaining fervour. "Y-You... You t-t-traitor...!" she gasped before letting out a gut-wrenching cough. "You ch-choose... th-th- _them_...?" Her shaky hand pointed an accusatory finger at the redhead; her former apprentice. "Ov-ver... your own... k-kind...?"

Though her eyes were filled with tears, Alya's voice was filled with confidence. "No," she said softly, laying a hand on her old friend's shoulder in respect. "I choose _myself_."

Lila let out a sound that was either a cry of anguish or a groan of disgust. Maybe both.

Then, Alya watched as the brunette's head rolled to the side and her hand dropped soundlessly to the floor. She heard Lila's heartbeat stop, the last sound ringing through her like the long beat of a drum.

Then, all was quiet.

Until a frazzled voice called out from behind Alya and Cat Noir, "Did I miss something?"

Alya, Cat Noir and Alix spun around in unison to see a very dishevelled, very _filthy_ Nino waddling over to the middle of the wreckage.

Alya's hysterical sigh sounded long after she rose up, raced over to the huntsman and threw her arms around him, breathing in that familiar scent of driftwood.

The huntsman coughed into her hair, "Apparently, I did." But despite his sheepishness, he hugged Alya back.

And that alone was more than she ever wanted.


	12. Of Monsters and Magic: Band Together

**OF MONSTERS AND MAGIC:**

 _ **Chapter 6:**_

 _ **Band Together**_

 _The Agrestian outlaws known as the Seven Bandits, ironically, did not start out as the Seven Bandits._

 _Nor did they necessarily start out as seven, for that matter._

 _And while Prince Adrien took part in many of their daring heists, he considered himself more as an honorary member than their leader._

 _More often than not, Adrien would steal away on his own adventures, searching tirelessly for a way to free his mother from Lord Hawkmoth's sleeping curse._

 _The honour of being the leader of the Seven Bandits fell to one other individual._

 _And she would go on to become one of the most famous, most beloved heroes of our time..._

* * *

Cheering. Laughter. Cries of joy.

Alya couldn't remember ever hearing such wonderful sounds. Nor could she recall ever smiling just as brightly as she was now.

Seeing the people of Rossi embracing their loved ones reminded the shape-shifter of a time long past, when the only joy in life she ever needed was her father and sisters. But instead of being dismal and jealous about the whole thing, Alya was actually delighted. Proud, even.

She had helped accomplish this. She was the reason the Lost Ones were no longer lost. She was the source of their laughter and tears.

And the funny part was... she hadn't done it all alone.

Nino and Cat Noir stood in the folds of the forest with her, staring out towards the cottages and huts in the distance. Tiny figures talked, smiled, drank and danced. Music echoed in the wind, so lively that the trees themselves swayed like celebratory banners.

Alya wanted to join in the merriment with them; let the honeyed mead swim through her head and the music make her spin and laugh until midnight.

But something in her heart told her that now was not the time for celebrating.

At first, Alya thought it was her mourning of Lila. Despite her wickedness, the brunette had been her mentor and friend... even if it was only for a very short time. Lila had taught Alya how to control her transformations; how to embrace the fox within. For that, Alya could be grateful.

It was something else that stirred inside the redhead's heart: an understanding; an idea.

Alix had seen it long before Alya did, earlier that day when she and her father – who had proudly become the new (temporary) mayor – came to give the shape-shifter their gratitude.

"Perhaps we'll tweak the legend a bit, to make it more of a heroic tale," Kubdel had suggested, his blue eyes gazing up in thought. "Of course, we can't use your real name, for confidentiality reasons. How about... Rena Rouge, the hero of Rossi?"

Alya had shaken her head laughing. "It's... got a nice ring to it," she admitted bashfully.

Alix rolled her eyes. "Whatever we call you, everyone will remember how you helped us." She gave Alya a tight hug and whispered mischievously, "And who knows... maybe your story will inspire others not to be afraid as well."

In that moment, Alya realized what she wanted to do.

She wanted to see more happiness; to see families reunited and villages filled with hope for the future once more. She wanted to finally do what she had meant to do from the beginning: use her shape-shifting abilities to save people; to help them in their time of great need.

She wanted to incite fear in the hearts of those who wished to harm the innocent and downtrodden. Only in their eyes would Alya be a monster. In the eyes of the people, she would be a guardian.

And, as luck would have it, Cat Noir – or, Prince Adrien, as he had told Alya – had mentioned that there was a certain evil stepfather who needed a good dethroning.

Now, as she gazed one last time upon the village of Rossi, Alya felt Nino squeeze her hand.

"Ready to lead the pack?" he asked warmly.

She smiled and turned to him, their faces mere inches apart. "Only if you're willing to follow the leader," she quipped.

His responding sneer was like a flint striking against her rib-cage and filling her insides with warmth.

"I'd follow you anywhere... _Rena Rouge_ ," Nino said with a wink.

Alya closed her eyes, enticing him to lean just a little bit forward...

"For _fox_ sake, you two – get a room," Cat Noir groaned.

The shape-shifter and the huntsman whirled on him, the former's eyes glowing like embers. "You're not mocking me, are you, _Your Highness_?" she asked with a sweet, threatening growl.

"Yeah, man," Nino grumbled. "Worst pun ever."

Cat Noir held up his hands with a wounded look. "Tough crowd."

The sound of horses made Alya's magic-enhanced ears twitch.

She turned back towards the village... and frowned. "Speaking of tough crowds," she said, pointing out, "who are _they_?"

Her two new companions inched closer to get a good look at the squad of new arrivals that practically stampeded through the perplexed Rossians, who quickly darted to the side of the road.

Alya could see them clear as day: purple uniforms, black cloaks, and thorn-encrusted helmets that reminded the shape-shifter of shrivelled vines. A bright, silvery crest sat proudly on their chests, and in the centre was...

"A butterfly?" Alya voiced out loud.

Cat Noir's presence suddenly hummed with bitterness. "Hawkmoth," he hissed. "That's _his_ insignia."

"And those must be some of his other guards," Nino whispered, his jaw clenching. "His... Akumas."

Alya nodded in understanding.

The head of the group of men proceeded to climb off his horse and pull out a small scroll of parchment from his tunic.

"Citizens of Agreste!" the captain announced, and the startled Rossians were immediately silenced. "We've come with ill tidings from the castle. Her Royal Majesty Queen Vivienne... is dead."

Alya looked over at Cat Noir, who shook his head. "He's lying," the thief muttered.

"But you all deserve to know how exactly this came to be," the Akuma Guard continued. "Our beloved queen was murdered... by none other than her own son, Prince Adrien!"

There were appalled gasps from the crowd.

Nino slumped forward. "Wonderful. One minute we're heroes, and the next, we're the kingdom's most wanted."

Alya smiled. "I don't think so," she said softly. "I have a feeling that the Rossians won't be so easily fooled this time."

"Let's hope," Cat Noir sighed.

The three of them listened as the Akuma captain declared, "By order of His Royal Majesty Lord Hawkmoth, the Sorcerer King of Agreste, Prince Adrien is hereby charged with high treason and condemned to death. The king will offer a generous reward to anyone who brings him the prince's heart. In addition," he added with cruel bass in his tone, "anyone found assisting the prince or allowing him to escape will be condemned as conspirators to the crown... and _executed_."

Alya sucked in a breath.

As the remaining Akumas went about nailing wanted posters all over the village, the shape-shifter slowly glanced over at Cat Noir. "You said your stepfather was desperate to kill you," she whispered, "but you might've mentioned that he was a complete maniac too."

The princely thief glanced down with shame. "I would never ask you to be a part of this, Alya," he said. "If you want to go your own path instead, I won't take it personally."

Nino looked disheartened at those words.

Alya just smiled. "And miss this chance to show my powers off to the king's loyal guard?" she asked with a dramatic sweep of her hands. "Besides, I told you I would help, so who cares if a bunch of pointy-headed bastards come chasing after us? I'll send them running with their swords between their legs by nightfall."

Nino and Cat Noir's amused grins were answer enough.

* * *

The Akuma captain led his charge at a boring pace through the forest. He shifted in his saddle for the fifth time since they left that decrepit old village. It was making his ass throb, and he grunted angrily at the horse as though it was _his_ fault.

He looked over his shoulder at his six fellow comrades. They were dreary from several days' worth of riding.

The captain turned away. They still had a few more villages left to visit. Their complaints would have to wait, whether they liked it or...

Something moved in the bushes.

The Akuma captain snapped a fist upwards and jerked on his reins. He and his squad stopped, glancing suspiciously at their lush surroundings.

Nothing but trees and dirt.

"Something wrong, sir?" one of the other guards asked.

The captain ordered his horse to turn so he could look the man in the eyes and tell him to shut his little...

His own eyes widened underneath his visor.

Where once there were six, only four men remained. The two horses at the pack of the group were rider-less.

The captain could barely form his question, "Where did they go?!"

One of the Akumas up front angled his head. "Who, sir?"

"The two at the back, you nincompoop!"

Now everyone was looking at the empty saddles... and their faces turned white with horror.

"It's the forest!" another Akuma whispered, pulling frantically on his own reins. "I've heard the stories, sir. They say demons and witches lurk within the trees, snatching up anyone who comes into their turf!"

The captain trotted over and grasped the man by the scruff of the neck. "Stop spewing that superstitious shit at me!" he growled. "Now get out there and search, or I'll report you to the master!"

He threw the soldier away so hard the startled Akuma fell halfway off his horse, making the poor creature whinny.

Once he untangled himself from his saddle, the Akuma Guard stepped onto the road and drew his sword. He waded into the bushes, slashing and poking wherever he walked.

Finally, he looked back to his commander. "There's noth-"

 _WHISH!_ The soldier slipped into the green faster than a speeding arrow.

There was a series of growls... followed by the man's blood-curling screams, which faded out of earshot.

The Akuma captain reeled, along with his horse. "We're under attack!" he shouted as he drew his own blade. "Take up arms! Form a circle around...!"

His last command got lodged in his throat as he turned back to his squad.

All that was left of them were six horses. But no soldiers.

Then... something tapped him on his shoulder.

The captain snapped around, prepared to face his own doom.

Wait a minute...

It was only a... a _boy_?!

Green, cat-like eyes gleamed up at the Akuma from underneath a broad, black hood. A staff of metal leaned upon one of his shoulders.

One look at him entirely, and the captain knew that this was no boy. It was some kind of demon!

"Who are you?!" the Akuma breathed.

The boy grinned like the devil himself and bowed low at the waist. "The name's Cat Noir," he said before crouching into a fighting stance, "and this is _our_ forest."

Someone else emerged from the bushes, brushing dirt off his gloves.

A young man with glasses and light-brown skin, but who wore the garb of a huntsman... with two nasty-looking hatchets at his hip.

"So if you want to live," the huntsman said with a cold sneer, "you have to pay us tribute." He looked over the captain's soldier. "I suggest you hurry – she still looks hungry."

The Akuma Guard gulped. _She?_

Terrified, he inched himself around... only to stare into the hungry, demonic, golden eyes of a red fox sitting behind him.

* * *

Needless to say, all six Akuma Guards survived that traumatic encounter.

All of them were now tied with their chests against a tree, naked save for their boots. The rest of their belongings – their weapons, their uniforms and, of course, their gold – had been taken by the two thieves and their monster pet. The horses had been released into the wild.

Upon the Akumas' bare backs were large letters painted in mud: LON, G LI, VE T, HE Q, UE, and EN!

Alone, they were gibberish. But when put together, they formed a single message; a rebellious declaration:

LONG LIVE THE QUEEN!

* * *

 _And so it was that Cat Noir and his compatriots began their heroic crusade against Lord Hawkmoth and his Akuma army._

 _In time, the prince's two bandits would become three, then four... until finally, seven._

 _This author was the last to join the Seven Bandits._

 _But no one can doubt Nino the huntsman and Alya the shape-shifter were the first._

 _Save for another pair of predestined lovers who went down in history, these two were the most unexpected yet most remarkable match._

 _For in a world of monsters and magic, true love comes in all shapes and sizes._

– _Signed,_ _ **Lord Nathaniel of Kurtzberg**_

 _Master Bard and Chronicler of Agreste_

 _Official Member of the Queen's Royal Council_

 _Former Member of the Seven Bandits_

* * *

 **MB: Phew! At last...**

 **Now I can finally do the prequel I'm most excited to write: Marinette's story! YAY!**

 **Just a heads-up: the next chapter will jump forward about a year from the events of this chapter.**

 **Stay tuned! "Catching Fire" is on its way!**


	13. Catching Fire: The Final Cut

**CATCHING FIRE**

 _ **Chapter 1:**_

 _ **The Final Cut**_

 _Once upon a time, a noble king and a fierce queen had two daughters._

 _The eldest was said to be the strongest and most dutiful of the princesses._

 _The youngest was said to be the fairest and, in this author's opinion, the bravest._

 _War brushed against their kingdom like tidal waves against a cliff, and the two princesses were drawn into battle with each rising storm._

 _But one day, they found themselves facing a threat unlike any other._

 _One that threatened to tear the sisters apart..._

* * *

The sky was black with smoke, yet the flat plateau of obsidian rock glistened.

An angry wind blew about the summit, carrying the gagging scents of ash and death with it. The village elders called it "dragon's breath". It wasn't far from the truth.

But such a thing did not stop the two female fighters from trying to knock the wind out of each other.

 _CLANG! SLISH! CLANG! CLANG! FWOOM!_

Their swords met with unbreakable ferocity, sending yellow sparks floating towards the slick, stony ground.

Both women were dressed in hard green leathers, with scale-like metal accents along their chest, arms and legs. They wore silver helmets on their faces, each one fitted with the mask of a fearsome animal. The taller fighter stared at her opponent with the face of a screeching eagle. The shorter and nimbler one bore the frozen snarl of a panther.

They swerved and slashed at each other so swiftly it was like an angry dance; a whirlwind of graceful kicks, sharp jabs and tight rolls.

With every move they made, the two women let out a valiant shout or a mad grunt; definitely not common behaviour for women. But they were not just women – they were warriors.

The short one parried a long swipe of the other's blade with one hand and managed to block a flying fist with the other. However, she realized too late that her middle was exposed. One hard kick and she was sent backwards.

Metal rang against rock, and the warrior's helmet bashed so hard against the ground it made her ears hurt.

Breathing hard through her mask, she crawled back to her feet.

Her opponent twirled her sword in a taunting manner.

Then, the short fighter reached up and pulled off her panther mask and helmet.

Twin tails of midnight blue fell softly against her sweaty neck. A pale, childish face dusted with light-brown freckles bore the smile of a cunning cat, and her bluebell eyes gleamed with determination.

"It's not too late to surrender," Princess Marinette of Dupain-Cheng offered, the sweetness of her tone more of a challenge than a kindness.

The warrior with the eagle mask seemed to laugh at that. Then she took off her own helmet, revealing a more triangular face with a harder skin tone and no freckles. But the hair was the same, despite its longer length. And so were the eyes, but they were made of a different steel.

"In that case," Princess Bridgette said as she pointed her sword at her younger sister, "I'll gladly accept yours."

Marinette smirked and held her sword forward with both hands.

When they both charged and clashed again, the plateau seemed to shrink away from them. The husky clouds above churned like a witch's brew. This was not a welcome place. It had once been a volcano, until centuries of eruptions cooled its core and it remained as it was now: an empty husk; a mere shadow of what it had once been.

But even shadows had their dangers.

For instance, the obsidian rock was slippery in some places, making it hard for Marinette and Bridgette to get a good foothold. But they fought on anyway.

Marinette slammed Bridgette's sword away with a hard bash. Then she pulled the pommel back against her shoulder – just like her mother had taught her – and then unleashed a long thrust.

Her elder sister fell backwards... but only by the hips.

Before Marinette could pull herself away, Bridgette grabbed her arms, danced underneath them until she was back on her feet, and then heaved her sister right over her.

Marinette cried out as she crashed onto her back, her arm throbbing and her lungs stinging from the force of the fall. Her sword fell from her hand. Then her body sagged against the ground, eyes closed.

She heard faint, soft steps growing louder; drawing closer.

And the moment she felt the sharp tip of the blade against her chin, Marinette opened her eyes.

She swung her legs out from underneath Bridgette, causing the older princess to fall and lose her own sword. Then Marinette spun onto her hands and knees, leapt on top of her disoriented sister, and pinned her down with her arm against Bridgette's chest.

"Next time, make sure I'm dead," Marinette suggested with a proud smirk.

It faded when Bridgette replied with her own sly smile, "And next time, pay attention to your surroundings."

Her arm moved suddenly, and then something hard bashed against Marinette's shoulder: a rock.

Crying out in annoyance more than pain, the younger blunette lost her grip on Bridgette and was thrown clean off of her.

Marinette scrambled up to her knees, ready to come barrelling into her sister, but by then it was too late.

Bridgette had retrieved her sword, and it hovered mere inches from the side of Marinette's neck.

Both sisters stared into each other's matching eyes. They made no attempt to move or speak. The only sounds were their exhausted breathing.

Then... someone was clapping.

As soon as she heard it, Marinette sighed with a smile and Bridgette lowered her sword. The elder helped the younger back to her feet with a respectful nod, and then the two princesses turned to their audience.

Large, wooden stands had been built on this spot many years ago, so that noble lords and ladies could host contests or duels on the edge of the volcanic summit. Among the stands was a plump man with a broad chin and a golden crown upon his snow-white hair, and he clapped louder than the rest of the spectators.

Everyone rose from their seats and descended down the steps towards Marinette and Bridgette.

"Well done!" King Andre of Bourgeois announced with a flamboyant voice that was far too sing-song to be a man's voice.

Not far from him, a petite woman with the regality of a beloved queen walked arm-in-arm with her muscular husband. Her hair was just as blue as the princesses', but her thin eyes were as bright as silver moons.

"Well done?" she repeated with a warm chuckle. "There's no need to be so formal in front of my daughters, King Andre." She walked over to Marinette and Bridgette and beamed at them proudly.

If she hadn't been so covered in ash and sweat, the young princess would've embraced her mother right then and there.

"You were both spectacular!" Queen Sabine of Dupain-Cheng beamed.

"Thank you, Mother," Marinette and Bridgette said in unison as they bowed.

Their father, King Thomas, had a large brown mustache that lifted up at the corners as he smiled. "I must admit, that's the first time I've seen you two fight so fiercely."

Marinette frowned playfully at Bridgette. "Until she cheated," she said.

The older princess's long hair flipped as she turned to face Marinette. "I did no such thing," she insisted.

"You hit me with a rock!"

"I was merely defending myself."

"And I was merely trying to outwit you!"

"You tried. You failed. Simple as that," Bridgette finished with a wink.

Marinette swore she was blowing steam out of her nostrils, but she laughed it off. On the battlefield, she and Bridgette stuck together like a sword and its hilt. But amongst the royal court, they bickered and complained like two ladies over a prized necklace.

To Marinette's relief, King Andre spoke out before her mother could scold the two sisters. "I'm still in shock you chose to use _real_ swords for the demonstration!" he exclaimed. "Absolutely remarkable!"

Someone from the stands cleared her throat.

Marinette tried not to wince. She had completely forgotten that _she_ was still here.

She looked past her parents and King Andre to see a gorgeous young woman with splendid, golden hair done up in a curly bun, and wearing more jewellery on her entire person than ten princesses combined.

Due to the conditions, everyone had been asked to wear leathers. But even so, this particular lady strived to be the most noticeable person in the royal court. Her leather overcoat was blue, with a cuffed neck and matching boots. Unlike most of the noblewomen present, she carried a black parasol to keep away any flakes of ash that blew her way.

Heaven forbid that Princess Chloe of Bourgeois should let a single speck of dirt touch her pretty face.

"It was a valiant performance, to be sure," she said in a tone that was as icy as her bright blue eyes, "but still only a performance. How would one of these brave princesses fair in a _real_ battle?"

Marinette pursed her lips at Chloe. Why did she have to be such a stick in the mud all the time? The blunette had only known this fellow princess for a week, and already the pampered queen bee was giving her a splitting headache.

Thankfully, King Thomas came to her rescue. "Do fairies make dust?" he asked rhetorically. "Do trolls live under bridges? Does true love conquer all evil spells?"

Bridgette giggled and placed a hand on the king's shoulder. "Father, relax," she said before turning to Chloe with a firm gaze. "Marinette and I have trained all our lives to defend our kingdom from any threat."

"Oh?" The golden princess raised a shifty eyebrow. "What about a dragon?"

Everyone sucked in a sharp breath, staring down at the ground as though murmuring a prayer.

Marinette couldn't blame them. Who wouldn't be afraid of a dragon?

But as always, Chloe wanted to burst into explanation. "Both our kingdoms are being ravaged by a fire-breathing monstrosity, the likes of which you have never seen," she said to the Dupain-Cheng princesses. "It has killed every single warrior that has tried to face it." Chloe's mouth curled upward proudly. "But it has yet to face _my_ champion."

She snapped her fingers, and a burly man almost as tall as King Thomas himself strode towards the royals.

He reminded Marinette of a barbarian. Everything that wasn't covered in animal skins was exposed to the elements, including some parts of the man's large, tight chest. The horns on his helmet were curved inward like elephant tusks, and through the visor, his eyes were as cold and black as the dead volcano. Just being near him made Marinette shudder.

"Sir Brudis wears the pelts of all the creatures he has ever killed," Chloe boasted as though she was the one with all the credit. "He'll be more than happy to add the dragon's scaly hide to his collection. Won't you, Brudis?"

The burly knight nodded stiffly. "The beast shall be my greatest trophy yet, Your Highness," he stated with a voice of grated rock.

Bridgette stepped forward, her face drawn with concern. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, sir knight," she said, "but you are just one man. It only stands to reason that another champion should accompany you."

"Precisely!" Chloe exclaimed. "And who would be better suited to the task... than a princess of Dupain-Cheng?"

Marinette's blood went as cold as her armour.

At that moment, Queen Sabine was beside her, meeting Chloe with a protective gaze. "My daughters are the finest warriors in the kingdom, but I do not wish to send either of them against such... _impossible_ odds."

Chloe's eyes hardened. She let out a dramatic sigh, and Marinette immediately knew what was coming.

As expected, King Andre cleared his throat and said hastily, "I understand your concern, my dear queen, but who else will your champion if not one of them?" He beckoned to Marinette and Bridgette. "They have more than proven themselves worthy to lead this quest."

Marinette looked over at her father, whose green eyes were filled with apprehension. "Sabine and I would be more at ease if we were able to send an entire squadron on this quest," he said, "but we have so few fighters left to spare due to our border disputes. Dupain-Cheng needs more soldiers."

"And Bourgeois needs more gold," Chloe added with a sweet smile. "I'm sure we could work out some sort of mutual agreement... but only _after_ our two champions slay the dragon." She seemed to sneer at Marinette. "What better way to bring two kingdoms together than a heroic act of chivalry and sacrifice?"

That last word stung Marinette. While yes, she and her sister were the most likely candidates, it seemed to the blunette that the princess of Bourgeois was playing some kind of morbid game of chess.

What if something happened to her or Bridgette? What if... they never returned?

Marinette sighed before lifting her chin with unwavering firmness at Chloe. " _I_ will go on the quest," she stated.

The crowd of nobles reeled. King Thomas and Queen Sabine gaped at their youngest daughter.

Bridgette turned to her. "Mari..."

But Marinette refused to look her sister in the eye. Bridgette was the heir to the throne; the leader and protector Dupain-Cheng needed in these bleak times. Marinette was the second child; the spare. She was the logical choice.

King Andre bowed graciously to Marinette. "You honour us, Princess," he said. "I'm sure with your creative cunning, that dragon won't see you coming."

"Hold on, Father."

All eyes turned to Princess Chloe, whose expression teetered between boredom and irritation.

The white-haired king appeared more nervous than curious. "Chloe, darling?"

Marinette watched with narrowed eyes as the heir of Bourgeois looked her up and down with something that looked like distaste.

"While I agree Princess Marinette's performance was... _inventive_ ," Chloe began haughtily, "she still lacks the proper qualifications of a true dragonslayer. Dragons may be half-wits, but their wrath knows no bounds. And I highly doubt playing possum will save anyone from the horrible agony that is dragon fire."

Marinette's face turned red, and she clenched her fingers so hard she cut off the circulation. _Get under my skin a little further, why don't you_ , the blunette thought bitterly.

"Now, Princess Bridgette on the other hand..." Chloe announced as she beckoned more warmly towards the older sister. "She has shown remarkable prowess with a sword and unwavering endurance. She wears her courage like her armour and wields a tool of death with no remorse." She glanced over the onlookers. "We need strength of heart to kill a creature with no heart at all."

There was murmuring within the crowd, and Marinette didn't need court expertise to know that they agreed with Chloe's praises.

The blunette snapped to her parents. "Mama, Papa, say something!" she pleaded.

The king and queen exchanged a sorrowful glance. That alone was enough to convince Marinette that the risk of losing an alliance with the second most powerful kingdom in the realm was too great to withhold their greatest warrior from participating in the quest. And besides, a Dupain-Cheng never backed away from a challenge.

Chloe smiled at Bridgette. "What say you, Your Highness? Will you fight alongside my champion for the future of our two kingdoms?"

Marinette caught her sister's reassuring smile before the latter declared firmly, "It would be my honour."

The nobles, save for Marinette and her parents, cheered.

And once more, King Andre was the loudest. "Then it's settled!" He turned to the crowd. "Tomorrow at dawn, Princess Bridgette of Dupain-Cheng and Sir Brudis of Bourgeois shall journey to Jagged Stone Peak and vanquish the accursed dragon once and for all!"

As the procession followed Bridgette and Brudis back to the carriages, Marinette found herself lagging behind.

Somehow, all of that energy she still had from the duel fell away from her like sheets of ice giving way to spring.

* * *

Castle Dupain-Cheng sat on the top of a spiraling hill, its ivory and crystal towers shooting up to the sky like swords.

All around it, buildings of smooth, white stone curled down from the castle towards the plains below, where the rest of the capital city fanned out like a skirt.

Marinette could almost see it all from where she stood at the castle gates. It used to fill her with excitement, seeing such a big world beyond the small court she had grown up in. Now, the sight of it all made the young princess want to curl up into a ball.

For the buildings no longer sparkled white. The black sky darkened everything in its wake, and now the entire city looked like a tall stack of grey-dusted stones. Where once there was loud talk and bustling streets, there were hushed whispers and roads so deserted it was a wonder if anyone lived in here at all.

The dragon's reign of terror had sent a jolt of dread through the city, and the people were looking more to themselves and their own families than to bother with enjoying a simple day's work.

Marinette looked over to Bridgette, who finally finished saddling up her white mare.

 _Everyone is afraid of losing their loved ones_ , the young princess thought, _but they have no idea what it really feels like._ She envied her people for that.

"Are you sure about this, Bridge?" Marinette asked as she walked over and squeezed her sister's hand. "Facing soldiers, brigands and the occasional monster is one thing... but this isn't any ordinary foe – it's a _dragon_." Her voice nearly cracked from the emphasis on that word. "I should go with you. It's not fair that you should face this threat alone."

Bridgette smiled at her. "I won't be alone, Mari," she said. "And while I wish you could share in this glory with me, I'm afraid King Andre and the rest of the nobles have spoken. If you accompany me without their consent, they'll think Dupain-Cheng is trying to steal more credit than Bourgeois... or Chloe will, at least," she added with an eye-roll. "Besides, one of us needs to stay with Mother and Father. If anything should happen to me, the kingdom will look to you to lead them."

Marinette shook her head sharply. "Don't say that. You know I hate it when you speak such things. It makes me worry for you even more."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But it's the truth." Bridgette sighed. "Nevertheless, I have every intention of coming back, even if I have to crawl the whole way."

"You _will_ come back," Marinette stated, those words of hope changing into a promise, as though she could see the future. The princess pulled something off her wrist and began wrapping it around Bridgette's. "So long as you wear _this_."

When she pulled away, the bright, beaded charm seemed to glow brighter in the light of the torches. It was mainly blue and white, with a large piece of jade secure in the middle. Upon the surface of the green stone was the carving of a flower.

Bridgette let out a laugh. "My old bracelet?" She snorted. "Mari, you know I don't believe in such nonsense anymore."

Marinette smiled and held out her own bracelet, which was the same save for the pink and red beads bordering the jade one. "It's not nonsense," she insisted. "It's good luck. And if I can't come with you, then you can at least take a piece of me with you."

The two sisters giggled warmly. They had made these charms together as little girls, back when everything in the world seemed to have a bit of magic. Marinette knew it was a childish gesture, but it was the only thing she and Bridgette had made together that remained now.

Thankfully, Bridgette gave her sister a thoughtful smile. "In that case, I'll never take it off," she said.

Marinette quickly threw her arms around Bridgette before the latter could see her tears. The elder princess had always been the strongest of them; the one born and bred to be a great queen. Marinette was always proud of Bridgette, no matter what.

 _You_ will _come back._

As they pulled away, King Thomas and Queen Sabine emerged from the entrance and took their turns.

"May the wisdom of our ancestors guide you," their mother whispered into Bridgette's shoulder as they hugged.

Their father finished with, "And may the strength of our people protect you."

Bridgette nodded, her bluebell eyes glistening. "And you as well," she said with a bow of her head. Then, with one last look at Marinette, the elder princess climbed onto her horse.

Sir Brudis and his entourage of soldiers would be waiting for Bridgette at the main city gate. If King Andre and Princess Chloe had already said their farewells, it was without anyone else's knowledge. Now the Bourgeois royals were waiting back inside the castle for news of Bridgette's departure.

The heir of Dupain-Cheng smiled proudly at her family and placed a hand over her heart. "Honour to all!" she declared as she dug her heels into her mare.

Marinette and her parents repeated loudly, "Honour to all!"

And as Bridgette shrank down the winding road of the city, Marinette fiddled with her lucky charm.

She looked up towards the dark sky, imagining the dragon, waiting for its next prey to come willingly into its hovel in Jagged Stone Peak.

But this time, Marinette shook those thoughts off.

Bridgette was a fighter. She would make it. She would return.

* * *

That night, Marinette dreamed of fog and smoke.

It choked her and made her eyes water. No matter where she turned, there was nothing in sight. No matter where she looked, only a grey expanse greeted her.

Then... something green glowed brightly in the distance, like a star. It swept the fog away, revealing a dark cave. The green light seemed to beckon to Marinette, whispering her name in a voice she didn't recognise.

She reached for it, and it fell right into the palm of her hand. It felt heavy and thick, like a jewel. But the moment she touched it, Marinette felt warm and safe. She smiled at it.

Only when she looked back up did she see the dripping jaws of the dragon.

When Marinette awoke, she could still feel the beast's hot breath against her prickled skin.

* * *

 **MB: And so begins the third and final prequel to "I Will Always Find You".**

 **And FYI, the title "Catching Fire" has no reference whatsoever to _The Hunger Games_. It's just a cool title that fitted nicely with the story.**

 **Most of this story is based on the _Once Upon a Time_ episode "The Shepherd" (which I, once again, do not own).**

 **And yes, as I've mentioned earlier, this story takes place right before the carriage robbery at the very beginning of "IWAFY".**

 **Stay tuned for the next five chapters!**


	14. Catching Fire: Miss Fortune

**CATCHING FIRE:**

 _ **Chapter 2:**_

 _ **Miss Fortune**_

 _In the island kingdom of Cheng, it was tradition for all children of the royal family – sons and daughters alike – to be trained in combat and self-defence._

 _Princes and princesses would be grouped with the children of commoners during their lessons, which incited not only teamwork and trust, but understanding._

 _This tradition carried on when Dupain and Cheng became a unified kingdom._

 _And it is safe to say that training was something more of a hobby than a mandatory routine for Princess Marinette..._

* * *

 _FTHUNK!_

The red-fletched arrow struck true, right in the middle of the target.

With a single motion, Marinette drew another arrow from her quiver, nocked it along her cheery-wood bow, aimed at the dummy on her left... and fired.

The straw-filled man twitched as he took a direct hit in the head.

Then, Marinette heard a creaking sound from behind her.

She spun around, sank to one knee, and fired again. The swinging wooden board that was painted to look like a dragon took an arrow right in the middle.

Marinette sighed and stood up, enjoying the relief of the cool wind against her pores. The archery range in the grand courtyard was her sanctuary; her place to unwind and de-stress. The world seemed much smaller when staring down an arrow at a target.

And the best part? This was the one place in the castle Chloe never set foot in.

Two days and two nights had passed since Bridgette had departed on her quest. Throughout that time, Marinette had tried numerous things to keep herself occupied. She had even dared to spend an entire day with Chloe in the city market.

But the Bourgeois princess had proven to be an unruly companion. She never went anywhere without her guards, and she complained about everything to the tiniest detail. Shopping was the worst, because Chloe kept changing her mind about which dresses and accessories she wanted to try on. Marinette had gritted her teeth through it all and eventually gave up trying to offer the golden-haired princess advice. Chloe never really listened anyway.

Marinette wondered how Chloe was able to pay for anything. She had heard the stories of how Bourgeois's coffers were so scarce they would not survive the next winter. It was no wonder Chloe was so desperate for an alliance with Dupain-Cheng. Still, it wouldn't hurt to leave off the jewels for a little while.

Now it was the third morning, and Marinette was glad that Chloe was breaking her fast with some of the kingdom's dignitaries. But now that she was alone, her thoughts once again returned to Bridgette.

Was she safe? Was she still making her way to Jagged Stone Rock, or had she already slain the dragon and was parading back home right now?

Marinette tried not to worry too much, but the memory of her recent nightmare still haunted her: the screams, the darkness, her sister calling her name...

"Marinette?"

The princess's bow snapped up, arrow ready.

King Thomas raised his hands with a startled chuckle. "Whoa, I surrender!"

Marinette sagged. "Papa, don't scare me like that," she snapped as she walked across the range towards him. "What would Mama say if you went back to the castle with an arrow in your shoulder?"

Her father patted her on the back as she came over. "Someone's a little on edge this morning," he mused with a cocked eyebrow. "What's on your mind, Mari-Munchkin?"

The blunette snorted. She hadn't been called that since she was six. But it made her relax a little as she put her bow down and pulled off her gloves. "Bridgette," she finally said.

The king's eyes softened. "Ah." He let out a deep sigh, like a bear waking from hibernation. "I thought she'd return sooner too, but there's nothing we can do but wait and hope for the best." He smiled at his daughter. "Besides, your sister is strong and clever. She knows how to take care of herself, even out in the wild."

Marinette knew that. Both sisters had been taken out into the Enchanted Forest during their survival training. Bridgette had been the faster learner, as always. Marinette had spent too much of her time staring out into the trees, hoping to catch sight of fairies or goblins.

"Anyway," King Thomas continued with that royal voice he used whenever he was being serious, "we have enough to worry about already. For instance, did you know Lady Anarka of Couffaine and her son are coming to visit next week?"

Marinette nodded as she sat down and pulled off her training boots. "Yes. Why is that a problem? She's a nice woman, not to mention funny – much more pleasant company than Chloe." She let out a tiny giggle and looked up at her father.

The awkward stare he gave her – that fatherly, overprotective stare – made Marinette realize what the problem really was.

She let out a tiny, "Oh." Then she leaned her elbows on her knees. "Let me guess: she's trying to marry off her son."

"His name is Luka," her father explained, though not without sounding like he was constipated. "And... yes. His mother did mention in her letter that she's trying to reassert her claim to the Couffaine holdings now that her poor husband has passed. Unfortunately, her only hope now is to secure a proper match for Luka."

Marinette knew the hidden message behind those words that her father didn't want to admit.

Ever since she was sixteen, Marinette had been bombarded with the topic of marriage by the court advisors. Her parents, thankfully, didn't pressure her too much about it, but it still irritated Marinette to think that she was being offered up for sale like one of Chloe's fancy jewels.

The princess finished placing her palace slippers on and stood up. Her bluebell eyes stared deep into her father's green ones. "Papa, I know what you're thinking, and you don't have to worry," she said adamantly. "I won't marry for the sake of lands or wealth or power. I will only marry for love, just like you and Mama did." She shrugged with a hopeful grin. "I know it's... a long shot, but I have to keep believing, don't I?"

King Thomas's eyes sparkled with intrigue, along with something Marinette recognised from that time he found out she was dishing out bread and cheese to children in the streets.

"Well then," her father said as he held up his left hand, where several rings adorned his fingers, "perhaps you could use a little magic to help you along the way."

Marinette watched as the king removed a silver ring with only a large emerald on the front. Even without proper sunlight in the smoke-ridden sky, the jewel seemed to glisten with its own light. It reminded the princess of the green star from her dream.

Her father smiled. "This is the ring your mother gave me when we fell in love," he said as he took his daughter's hand and placed the little trinket in her open palm. "It's only fitting that you should pass it on to the lucky boy who will earn _your_ heart."

Marinette's mouth hung open. She glanced between the ring and her father's face. _Is he serious?_ "Papa... You can't give me something as precious as this!" she breathed. "I mean... Mama gave it to _you_..."

"And now _I'm_ giving it to _you_... to give to the boy you will fall in love with," the king said. He curled Marinette's fingers over the ring and locked a soft, assuring gaze on her. "There is real magic in this jewel, Marinette. True love follows this ring wherever it goes. Keep it close, and it will never lead you astray."

Marinette felt her heart sighing. She was honoured to have a gift such as this. And to have a real shot at true love...!

The princess had dreamed all her life of meeting a brave shepherd's son or a dashing squire who would fight dragons and trolls and evil sorcerers by her side, and then dance with her under the open stars. It was a childish fantasy, and not all princesses got the chance to choose who they would marry, but Marinette had always believed she would be one of the lucky ones.

And now, it seemed as though luck was on her side.

"Princess Marinette!"

Father and daughter turned to the source of that frantic voice: a nimble, young page donned in the green and gold colours of Dupain-Cheng.

He kneeled before the king and the princess, panting heavily. "Your Highness... The Bourgeois knight, Sir Brudis..." He looked up at Marinette, his eyes bearing those of someone who had just seen death. "He's... He's terribly hurt, my princess! He... We think he's dying!"

Something like a hard stone dropped in Marinette's chest, and suddenly she couldn't breathe.

The page had mentioned only Sir Brudis, but not Bridgette.

Which meant she hadn't returned.

Marinette took out in a bounding flurry, leaving her gear and her father behind. She didn't need to ask where the Bourgeois knight was being kept. She already knew.

* * *

The castle infirmary was mostly empty, save for a group of guards and nurses that stood cluttering around a single bed on the far end.

They parted as soon as Marinette came barrelling in.

Her eyes fell on the man on the bed, and she gasped. "Oh, gods...!"

Sir Brudis was unrecognisable. His horned helmet was off, and his face was plastered with hideous, pus-filled burns. His shaking hands were the same, and his pelts and leathers were so heavily singed they blackened and curled on the ends.

Dragon fire. Marinette had seen it before. It was poisonous if left untreated for too long.

The nauseating scents of burned animal hair and rotting flesh made Marinette almost faint, but she fought it off and approached the groaning knight's side.

She glanced up at the palace guards who had undoubtedly brought Brudis here. "What happened?!" she demanded.

"We found him staggering towards the city gates, Your Highness," one of the men explained. "He kept murmuring things, including your name, and then he collapsed. We brought him here as soon as we could."

The head nurse, Jasminda, placed a sweet-smelling rag on Brudis's burns, making him wince. "The poison has already spread too deep, my princess," she said with remorse. "All we can do now is ease his pain."

"Pr... _Princess_..."

Marinette looked to see the dying knight staring at her. His black eyes were barely visible under all that scar tissue. It made her heart break.

The blunette took his hand, trying not to squeeze it too hard. "Sir Brudis... Where is my sister?" Her voice shook as she tried to fight back her tears. "Where is Bridgette?!"

The knight's next words were barely more than painful whispers: "Taken... the dragon... couldn't stop it... No other... survived..." His body spasmed before sinking back into the mattress. "For... Forgive me, Highness..." He let out a small choking sound, and a single tear fell along his burned cheek. "I've failed..."

Marinette held his hand even as the brave knight's last breath left him.

A few of the nurses let out whimpers, and the surrounding guards hung their heads down and placed their hands over their hearts.

But Marinette didn't tear herself away from Brudis. She pressed her forehead to his limp fingers and whispered the Dupain-Cheng requiem: "May the light of the stars and the song of the ancestors guide your spirit home." She stood, closed the knight's eyes, and then kissed his brow. "Go with honour, and be at peace."

The Dupain-Cheng knights murmured, "Honour to all."

Marinette's tears finally fell, and she stepped away from the dead knight while Jasminda covered his body with a white sheet.

All the while, the princess thought about what Brudis had said: _Taken_...

The dragon had taken Bridgette. She could still be alive. She could still be out there, fighting to escape!

Whatever the case, Marinette knew what she had to do.

* * *

Unfortunately, there was one royal obstacle standing in the princess's way.

"What do you mean "you won't help us"?" she demanded to King Andre later that afternoon in the council chamber.

Everyone except the king and queen of Dupain-Cheng stood before the dais. Marinette's parents sat on their thrones, watching the gathering with mournful looks.

The King of Bourgeois fidgeted uncomfortably in his spot. "As much as it... pains me to say this," he stuttered, "I... I'm afraid the risk is too great. I've just lost my champion _and_ an entire squad of my best troops. I cannot bear to sacrifice any more Bourgeois knights based solely on – no offence – a princess's desperate hopes."

Marinette clenched her jaw before looking over to Andre's daughter. Surprisingly, Chloe appeared to be quite distraught: her head dipped down and her blue eyes losing their flair.

"I'm afraid... My father speaks true, Marinette," the golden-haired princess said a sorrowful tone the blunette never knew she had. "Unless some brave soul comes forward to take up the quest, we must accept the worst."

Marinette regained her composure. "Bridgette's not dead," she said, using her princess voice as she addressed all the royal council members. "Sir Brudis said the dragon had taken her. _Taken_ , not killed. There's still a chance we can save her!"

"And where do you suggest we start, Your Highness?" one of her father's advisors asked exhaustedly. "We don't have the right resources to bring down a dragon. And even if by some miracle we find a new champion, it will be too late."

Marinette lifted her chin at him. "We have one: _me_."

She could've sworn she saw Chloe smiling.

"Out of the question!" Queen Sabine declared from her throne, her silver eyes red from crying but hard enough to make Marinette cringe. "You are not setting _one foot_ outside these walls!"

"But, Mother..."

"No "buts", Marinette," King Thomas said, using his serious voice again. "We've already lost one daughter. We can't lose _you_ too."

Marinette looked away, knowing their pain but wishing she could make them understand. She was the only likely candidate left. Next to Bridgette, she was the best fighter in the kingdom. And Marinette could not – _would_ not – give up on her older sister. Why couldn't they all realize that?

As her father dismissed the council, Marinette was surprised to see Chloe walking up to her, her red skirts sinking along the ground.

Then, Chloe embraced her!

Marinette was so taken aback by this that she didn't return the gesture, but Chloe didn't seem to mind as she pulled away and cupped the blunette's cheek.

"You have such a big heart, Marinette," the Bourgeois princess said. "If my younger brother, Theo, was in such peril, why... I don't know what I would do. But _you_..." She looked away coyly. "Perhaps I underestimated you back at the summit. The realm needs brave warriors like you."

As Chloe followed her father out of the chamber, Marinette watched her leave with an incredulous stare.

 _That was... weird._

Normally, Chloe wasn't all nicey-nice unless there was something she wanted. The question was: what was it?

Marinette folded her arms, tapping her fingers in thought. The realm didn't need her right now – Bridgette did. She would worry about Chloe later.

Her eyes fell to the lucky charm around her wrist... and her resolve grew.

No doubt her parents would try to keep their daughter confined to Castle Dupain-Cheng, but Marinette had trained herself in the art of sneaking out. And she knew every nook and cranny like the wooden streaks of her bow.

But first, she had some research to do.

* * *

It was sunset by the time Marinette finished the last page of the last, painfully-large text in front of her. She slammed it closed with a dissatisfied groan.

Then Marinette turned to the royal librarian, who was more of a monk than a scholar.

"You're certain this was all you could find?" she asked, beckoning to the small stack of heavy books on the table. "These are just references to old legends and fairytales. I didn't see anything detailing any solid facts on dragons."

The old man shook his bald head apologetically. "I'm afraid there is no such book like that, Your Highness," he said in a scratchy voice. "Anything that might have been written about them was probably lost during the Dragon Wars two-hundred years ago. Since then, no one has ever been able to study a living dragon and live to tell the tale."

Marinette leaned on the table with both hands, her midnight-blue hair falling past her troubled face.

How could she possibly hope to save Bridgette if she had no earthy idea about dragons? How could she kill one if she didn't know any of its weaknesses or behaviours? Would she even be able to use a bow and arrow against it, or was it indestructible?

But it was just as the librarian said. Unless you were two-hundred years old, you couldn't possibly know about dragons.

Marinette gasped and looked up, an idea dawning.

 _That's it!_

She knew exactly the right person to talk to about dragons! The only problem was: his home was far outside the city, about half-a-day's ride away.

Well, it _was_ a warm night for a stroll.

It didn't take long for Marinette to make her decision.

The librarian staggered back as the princess stole past him towards the exit. "Princess! Where are you going?"

Marinette grinned over her shoulder. "Can't tell you that – top secret! Thanks!" she called.

And as she sprinted back to her bedchambers, Marinette could've sworn she heard Bridgette's voice in the back of her mind, laughing with her.


	15. Catching Fire: Tickle a Dragon's Tail

**MB: This was another quick chapter I wanted to get over with, so I'll just be skipping the unnecessary sneaking around and travelling bits, and just jump to the important parts. The next three chapters will the best ones!**

 **Enjoy! :)**

* * *

 **CATCHING FIRE**

 _ **Chapter 3:**_

 _ **Tickle a Dragon's Tail**_

 _Immortality does not exist._

 _No human can become immortal, as it disrupts the laws of nature upon which we were created._

 _Many a sorcerer has searched for the key to eternal life, but their endeavours were in vain._

 _We can, however, prolong our lives for a certain period of time._

 _There is one such man who has been alive since the early days of the Dragon Wars; a former monk and healer who has seen and learned many things._

 _The people of Dupain-Cheng call him "the Guardian", the keeper of ancient knowledge._

 _Our dear Princess Marinette first met him at the age of fourteen, when she happened upon a crippled old man trapped in a hunter's pit._

 _Knowing he would never be able to hang onto a rope on his own, the brave little princess climbed down into the pit herself and carried the old man on her back as she hoisted them both back up._

 _And when she asked for nothing in return for saving his life – even though he insisted – the old man revealed his true name to her._

 _For only those who prove themselves to be pure of heart and devoid of selfishness or greed shall receive the Guardian's friendship._

 _And only a friend of a Guardian may ask for whatever knowledge or wisdom they seek._

 _And now, in her time of great need, Her Highness decided at last to pay her old friend a visit..._

* * *

She gave her handmaidens the night off.

She bade the two castle guards standing outside her door a thoughtful goodnight.

She waited until most of the castle was asleep.

And once the fireplace had grown cold, Marinette flew off her covers and slipped silently out of bed, dressed in her travelling tunic, leathers and boots.

Then, using her candlestick to guide her, Marinette opened up her trunk and gathered up her bow and quiver of arrows. She also picked up a small hunting knife and strapped its scabbard onto her belt.

She stopped when her eyes fell on something red sitting on top of her favourite books.

It was a cloak as red as roses, with large, black polka-dots.

Marinette smiled, placed her gear down and gently lifted up the cloak. She hadn't worn it in a few years. She had made it with her own hands, back when she dreamed of venturing off into the Enchanted Forest to slay ogres and dragons.

How ironic.

Bridgette had mocked her for using such an unsubtle colour... and polka-dots. But Marinette had lifted her chin proudly and said, "When I want to be remembered as the hero of Dupain-Cheng, I should at least have a trademark cloak."

Her sister had eventually given in and mused, "If you can be brave enough to wear a thing like _that_ , you can be brave enough to do anything, Mari."

Marinette knew it would be an awful risk to put this cloak on, especially when this the one time she absolutely _must not_ be noticed. But the feeling of the tightly-woven fabric in her hands made her feel stronger, and it made her think more about Bridgette.

If a dragon could care less about how she looked, then so could Marinette.

She stood and wrapped the cloak around herself, securing it at her shoulders. It still stretched down just below her knees – she hadn't grown that much in years.

Once her bow and quiver were strapped onto her back, Marinette blew out her candle and pulled her broad hood over her face.

She felt like a rogue sneaking around in the dark... and it made her grin.

Now the tricky part: getting out of the castle.

The window was out of the question, unless she wanted to throw herself down the hundred-foot drop to the inner courtyard.

And if her parents were smart, they probably had guards patrolling the secret passageway behind Marinette's fireplace. Not to keep anything from breaking in, but to keep Marinette from sneaking out.

But there was one hidden passage the princess knew they _wouldn't_ be guarding: the one behind the dais in the throne room. That tunnel would take her straight outside the castle walls and into the city. Once there... well, she would figure it out when she'd get there.

All she had to do now was get the two guards at her door out of her way and make her way downstairs.

So Marinette decided to do what no one would expect of a girl trying to sneak out: draw attention to herself.

Grabbing her bedchamber key from her dresser, Marinette turned to face the door and cried as loudly as she could, "Guards! HELP! Intruder! AHHH!"

When the two knights came bursting in to the rescue, they failed to notice their own princess slip out from behind her full-length mirror and race for the open door.

Marinette gave them an apologetic smile as they snapped around to see her standing where they should have been. "Sorry, guys," she whispered before closing the door and locking it with the key.

She barely finished when her outwitted guards came pounding on the wooden door, begging for Marinette not to leave.

But the princess ignored them as she placed the key on the floor by the door. Then, knowing the sound would attract more guards, she swept down the hallway towards the throne room.

* * *

Despite the cool breeze, it was exceptionally warm tonight.

The sentinel by the city gates wiped his brow as he inspected a wagon filled with large barrels coming through.

The driver presented his papers, claiming that he was delivering ale to the village of Lahiffe for a wedding. When questioned about why he was heading out so late at night, the fidgety man merely sighed and said, "It was a fault on my part. I got the date mixed up, and the wedding's tomorrow. If I leave now, I should make it there before sundown with just enough time for set up."

Yawning, the sentinel read the parchment over. Nothing looked unusual, and all the barrels were full and accounted for. He let the man pass.

The driver nodded a relieved "thanks" and then snapped the reins on his two horses.

The sentinel watched as the wagon pulled away through the city gates and shrank into the distance.

Just then, he heard the alarm bells sound all the way across the city.

The thundering chimes snapped the sentinel awake. He called to the lookout on the battlements, "What news?!"

The guard lowered his spyglass. "Yellow flag, sir!" he replied. "There's been an escape, sir!"

The sentinel frowned. An escape? Was it a prisoner?

Either way, a yellow flag meant one thing.

"Seal the gate!" he barked to the scattering soldiers. "No one else gets through!"

* * *

The driver heard the bells and almost wanted to look back, but he kept himself calm and focused on the dark road ahead. The light from his swinging lantern helped a little.

When he was certain he was well out of sight of the city watchtowers, the driver commanded his stallions to halt.

Then he grabbed the lantern, climbed out of his seat, and walked around his wagon towards the end. Lowering the backboard, the man heaved himself up and crawled over to one of the middle barrels.

Glancing one last time over his shoulder, the driver knocked gently on the top of the barrel.

It jiggled a bit before the wooden plate came off, revealing a dark-haired, red-hooded girl crammed inside.

Princess Marinette gasped for breath and stood up. "What do you put in that ale of yours to give it such a strong smell?" she moaned.

The man chuckled. "I sun-dry the grain for thirty days," he said as he took her hand and helped her out of the barrel. "Believe me, it smells better once the brew is finished."

Marinette gleefully jumped off the wagon and onto the soft dirt. Then she reached into her belt pouch and pulled out a few gold coins. "A little extra for the creative story," she said as she pressed the money into the driver's hand. "You know, if they find out you snuck me out, you might find yourself out of the brewing business."

The man held up his free hand with a smile. "With all due respect, Your Highness, I could care less about my work. I'm overdue for retirement anyway. Now, helping a young princess on a mission to save her sister..." He smiled and extended the handful of coins back to her. "The thrill of it alone is worth more than gold."

Marinette shook her head. "Keep it," she insisted, "as a thank you. You've been a really big help. And now it's my turn to have a little thrill." She readjusted her bow and quiver and repositioned her hood over her head before heading, not down the road as the driver expected, but down the hill that led to the moonlit valley below.

"Where are you going?" he asked her. "I thought you wanted me to escort you to the nearest village?"

She turned back to him, her cloak flapping against her legs. "Now that the soldiers will be looking for me, that's the first place they'll start looking," she explained. "There's a trading post just a few miles east where I can acquire a horse. Besides, I wouldn't want you to get in any more trouble than you already are."

The driver sighed. "It would be unfair of me to leave the king's daughter all alone in the middle of nowhere in the dead of night," he said with a mirthless chuckle.

The princess grinned at him slyly. "I may be a king's daughter," she said, "but I'm certainly not a damsel in distress. I guarantee you that."

And with that, she turned away and proceeded to sprint down the hill.

* * *

Aside from the fact that he had been woken up in the wee hours of the night, the stable master at the trading post had been more than happy to sell one of his finest mares to the princess of Dupain-Cheng.

The horse was almond-coloured with a creamy mane and a soft, white spot on the front of her snout. Marinette knew she should give the mare a name, but she was too exhausted to do anything until she got a least a few hours of sleep and a bit of food in her belly.

Once dawn finally rose across the valley, Marinette roused herself, saddled up, and rode off straight for the Enchanted Forest.

By midday, she reached a large stone monument that sat deep within the folds of two enormous trees. Together with the heaving boulders and curling roots, the whole thing reminded Marinette of a giant, sleeping turtle.

Turtle Rock.

The princess dismounted and strode up to the open mouth within the mound of rock. It was nothing more than a small, round intent. But Marinette knew from experience that looks can be deceiving. Her first encounter with the Guardian six years ago had proved that.

Marinette had done nothing more than what any Good Samaritan would have done, yet the old man who had told her his true name saw fit to offer her something in return:

 _If you ever change your mind, or if you ever find yourself in need of answers you cannot find, come to Turtle Rock and whisper my true name. There, you shall find me._

Those had been his last words to the little princess before he suddenly vanished in a whirl of green smoke. The whole thing had astounded Marinette so much that she wondered if she had only imagined him.

But now, as she gazed into the mouth of Turtle Rock, Marinette knew this Guardian was real, and he was her only chance of saving Bridgette.

So she leaned into the tiny hole and whispered, "Master Fu."

The stone grumbled, as though the giant turtle was yawning.

Then, green light exploded in the princess's face.

Marinette winced and covered her eyes.

That's when she stopped smelling pine and dirt... and started breathing in the strong odour of incense.

Bewildered, Marinette lowered her hands and opened her eyes... only to be met with more bewilderment.

She was no longer standing in the Enchanted Forest. She was standing inside some kind of open room, with sliding-door windows and soft, padded mats scattered about the wooden floor. A small table sat in the middle of the room, upon which sat a steaming, white teapot with matching mugs. Paintings and tapestries hung about the alabaster walls, displaying odd-looking creatures and figures Marinette couldn't name.

Glancing over her shoulder, Marinette saw the green light from before fading away as one of the doors slid itself shut.

When the perplexed princess turned back, she was not alone.

A serene-looking old man kneeled on the opposite side of the small table, smiling up at Marinette with recognition and kindness. There was only a bit of grey hair encircling his balding head, and he had a thin matching goatee on his chin. From the deep red robes he wore, he looked like an ordinary monk.

But this was no ordinary monk at all. This was the Guardian, the keeper of knowledge; a man who had lived for over two-hundred years, even though he didn't quite look the part.

"Welcome, Princess Marinette," Master Fu said with a dip of his chin. "It's so good to see you again after all this time." He beckoned to the spot across from him. "Please, sit and have some tea. Your nightly escapade must have left you quite exhausted."

Marinette blinked at him as she pulled off her hood. "How... How do you...?" She tried again. "What makes you think I ran away?"

The old man's brown eyes twinkled. "Come now, my child," he said as he picked up the pot of tea and began pouring. "A Guardian is many things, but ignorant is not one of them. So why don't we just drink our tea like old friends..." He put the pot down and extended Marinette's cup towards her. "... and you can tell me about your problem."

Marinette almost smiled as she walked over, sat down with her legs crossed, and accepted the steaming mug. "But... you already know why I'm here," she stated as-a-matter-of-factly. "So why are you asking?"

Now Master Fu was chuckling. "Forgive me. I was trying to be polite. It's not every day I get royal visitors, you know."

That made Marinette wonder: _Does he get any other visitors at all?_ She almost felt sorry for him, leaving all alone in this secluded sanctuary with no one to talk to. The princess sipped daintily at her tea. _Mmm... chamomile._

After a short moment of quiet, Marinette lowered her mug and said with a heavy heart, "As I'm sure you're aware, my sister Bridgette has been captured. By a dragon."

Master Fu didn't seem at all shocked. The princess expected as much.

"Ah, yes – the poor girl," he murmured, putting down his own mug and crossing his hands together. "Then again, if the dragon intended to take her alive, there may be hope for her yet."

Marinette's eyebrows perked up. "You believe she's alive?"

"Do you?" the Guardian asked.

The princess didn't need to think about that very long. "Yes," she said firmly. "That's why I need your help." She leaned forward in her spot, her bluebell eyes hungry for information. "What can you tell me about dragons?"

Master Fu let out a soft sigh through his nostrils, and Marinette could have sworn he looked sad. But the moment passed as the Guardian reached over and removed the ceramic lid from the teapot.

A column of steam burst from the top, and as Marinette watched, she was amazed to see the soft tendrils come to life and form the shape of a winged dragon.

"They were once a proud and prosperous race," Master Fu began as the dragon soared majestically in front of them. "Then mankind reduced them to near extinction during the Dragon Wars. Since then, every remaining dragon in the realm has held a deep, inextinguishable hatred for humans. No matter what you do or say, they cannot be reasoned with."

Marinette listened as the steam dragon let out a vengeful gust of fire – or steam, in this case. Then the princess looked over at Master Fu. "But then... why would this dragon want to keep Bridgette alive?"

The old man glanced at her sadly. "Probably for the same reason anyone would keep a princess alive," he replied. "Ransom."

That made Marinette's eyebrow rise. "The dragon wants gold?" she asked, almost in disbelief.

Master Fu shook his head as he held the tiny dragon over his outstretched hand. "Not necessarily. I suspect it wants tribute from the humans – space to hunt, sacrifices to appease its appetite, and maybe even a new home where no one can try to kill it." His voice became grave as he added, "Whatever the case, no kingdom is safe so long as the dragon keeps Bridgette as its hostage."

Marinette immediately pictured her sister trapped in a dark, dank cave; a tool for the dragon to use in its bid to get whatever it desired. Unfortunately, King Thomas and Queen Sabine were not the kind of parents to easily submit to evil forces. Marinette knew with a pang they would rather sacrifice their own lives to try and save their eldest child rather than bargain with a monster. And without its rightful rulers, Dupain-Cheng would crumble.

"So the only way to save my sister..." Marinette said with grim affirmation, "is to kill the dragon."

"I'm afraid so," Master Fu confirmed as his steam dragon took back into the air. Then the old man leaned closer to gaze into Marinette's eyes. "I will not try to dissuade you from saving your sister, Marinette, but you must be wary of just how much damage _one_ dragon can inflict." He indicated towards the miniature dragon before them. "Its claws are sharper than spears, and they can strike through stone and metal. Its flaming breath melts living creatures alive and reduces all else to a pile of ash."

Marinette watched with hollow horror as the steam from the pot formed into trees, villages and castles. One by one, the dragon swooped in and destroyed them all with a single blow.

Then Master Fu waved his hand, and the dragon vanished into the air. All that remained was a few harmless tendrils of vapour emitting from the open teapot.

Once she pulled herself together again, Marinette asked in a whisper, "How is it that my people have managed to kill so many dragons during the wars?"

To her intrigue, the Guardian smiled at her. "Good question," he said as he straightened up, "and the answer is quite humorous. You see, for all their might and glory, all dragons have the same weakness: they believe they are invincible."

Marinette blinked at him, the message going right over her head as quickly as the vanishing steam.

Master Fu noticed her vacant stare and continued, "Let me put it this way. When you put on that interesting cloak of yours, it made you feel braver, did it not?"

Unconsciously, Marinette tugged at one of the folds of her red and black-spotted cloak. Then she nodded.

"Right. Now ask yourself this," Master Fu said with an anticipating look. "Would you still have come this far to save Bridgette _without_ your cloak?"

Marinette frowned at him as though he was questioning her love for her sister. "Of course I would have!" she stated resolutely.

The Guardian clapped his hands together. "There you have it!" he exclaimed, making Marinette's eyebrows lift. "Dragons cannot shed their armour as easily as you can, Marinette, and as a consequence, they rely too heavily on that armour to thrive and hunt. _That_ is their weakness."

For a moment, the old man's words didn't quite resonate with the princess. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized something.

What if the key to killing a dragon... was to outwit it?

What if there was a way Marinette could turn its own power against it?

But even if there was a way, how could one human alone accomplish it?

Then Marinette remembered: _I won't be alone. Once I find and free Bridgette, we'll take down the dragon together – just like I told her we could._

If only Princess Chloe could see just how "inventive" Marinette really was.

"Thank you, Master Fu." Marinette bowed her head with a confident smile and gathered herself up. "Now, if you'll excuse me... I have a date with a dragon at Jagged Stone Peak."

As she turned to leave the room, Master Fu called softly, "Do what you must, Marinette, but remember this. In the end, your humanity will be your greatest weapon, and love burns stronger than any flame."

When Marinette glanced back at him, the Guardian winked at her.

Then, the room was swallowed in green light.

* * *

Birds chirped. Tree branches blew in the summer breeze.

And Princess Marinette appeared back in the Enchanted Forest.

She double-checked to make sure the mouth of Turtle Rock was still sealed. Then she grinned and murmured, "Don't be a stranger now, you old turtle."

Her almond mare was standing right where the princess had left her, grazing happily along the wild grass. But the moment Marinette approached, the horse lifted her head and snorted "hello" into her midnight-blue ponytails.

"All right, girl," the princess said as she stroked her mare's mane. "No more side quests. We're going after that dragon, whether we like it or not."

And as she climbed into the saddle and kicked the horse into a trot, Marinette could've sworn she heard a deep, muffled moan in the wind.

It sounded like, "Ladybug."

* * *

Master Fu watched the little princess ride off in the swirling vision from his teapot.

He couldn't help but chuckle giddily before sighing, "If only she knew."


	16. Catching Fire: A Bone to Pick

**CATCHING FIRE**

 _ **Chapter 4:**_

 _ **A Bone to Pick**_

 _In our world, dragons do not collect treasure._

 _While some tales and legends claim that they have a fondness for glistening gold and sparkling jewels, such things are bagatelles to dragons._

 _But they do like to keep tokens of their ruthless endeavours; keepsakes, of sorts:_

 _The bones of their victims._

 _However, humans are so fragile that their bones shatter or turn to ash instantaneously during dragon attacks._

 _So, if possible, a dragon would simply take humans as prisoners and, after they have outgrown their usefulness, leave them to rot in its cave._

 _Such a fate would have undoubtedly befallen Princess Bridgette in due time, had it not been for the remarkable valour of her younger sister..._

* * *

Marinette now knew why her people called this place Jagged Stone Peak.

The entire mountain was a stack of serrated, dagger-like rocks sticking out of the barren hills. Even from their base, the princess could see that the outer spikes were wrapped around the centre, like they were guarding something. Black smoke emanated from within those sharp folds, and Marinette knew the dragon's hovel lay there. It made sense that the beast would want to hide away in a place where no hero would dare enter.

But Bridgette and Sir Brudis had entered. So could Marinette.

Sadly, her horse wouldn't.

The princess tried and tried again to urge the frightened mare onward, without kicking her too much. But this female was just as stubborn as its rider.

Marinette groaned in surrender. "Fine," she snapped. " _You_ stay here at the bottom, and _I'll_ venture into the dragon's den. What could go wrong?" She tried not to shudder as she swung her leg over and stepped onto the ground.

A plume of ash exploded around her feet as she landed. Yep, she was definitely in the right place.

Drawing her bow, Marinette took a deep breath – the air was heavy with smoke and metal – and looked up towards the high, deadly peaks.

Remembering Master Fu's words, the blunette repeated softly, "What could go wrong?"

Then, she began the hike up.

Conveniently, there was a trail that led her deep inside the mountain maze, curling in and around the giant spikes like a river. The deeper inside Marinette went, the more enormous the rocks appeared. She felt like she was wandering into the mouth of a monster, and any minute now it would snap its jaws shut and plunge her into the smoky darkness.

But Marinette's sister was in here somewhere, and that thought alone gave the young princess more incentive to keep going.

Her boots scraped against the gravel as she walked. She prayed the dragon wouldn't be able to hear her from underground, assuming it was still in its cave.

She was nearing the top now. The air was very thick up here, and she had to cough and cover her mouth several times. But there was a burning smell as well: wood, metal... and roasted meat. It made Marinette's stomach coil.

Finally, she came up to the top of a small hill, the ashy slope of which stretching down towards a smaller vein of space below. Marinette refocused her attention to the top.

The first thing she saw was the dark, gaping pit inside the rock wall ahead, the biggest opening Marinette had ever seen. The entrance to the dragon's lair!

The second thing that got her attention was the debris scattered before the cave.

Marinette gasped as she beheld the burnt remains of soldiers, horses and weapons. Nothing remained of the unfortunate fighters but twisted puddles of metal and shreds of uniform, for their bodies had been completely reduced to nothing. There were one or two horse carcasses laying about, blackened beyond recognition and still smoking. There was even a wheeled cannon, which was now broken and had its tip melted and bent over like candle wax.

This whole spot was a graveyard of all the dragon had killed; a warning for any able-bodied heroes to stay away.

The sight of it all made Marinette feel overwhelmingly light-headed. The fact that Sir Brudis had managed to flee from this mountain astounded her.

Marinette offered a heartfelt prayer to him and every one of these brave souls before she gritted her teeth in anger. _That monster will pay dearly for this!_

Her only hope now was that Bridgette wasn't beyond saving.

Just then, it grew darker.

Then, the shadow passed.

Marinette glanced up at the dark-grey sky with a frown. That's when she heard a strange sound drawing closer: _Whoosh... WHOOSH..._

Ash and stones scattered all around Marinette, and she knew with gut-clenching certainty that the dragon wasn't in its cave at all.

Her heart pounding, Marinette spotted a large boulder off to the side and made a mad dash for it. She slipped and skidded along the ground before crawling hastily behind the large rock and flattening herself against it.

The sight of black dust on her sleeves and boots gave her an idea. As the sound of leathery wings grew louder, Marinette grasped handfuls of ash and powdered the stuff all over herself, covering her chest, her cloak, and even rubbing it on her face. Hopefully, it would be enough to mask the princess's human scent.

The ground shook, and Marinette went utterly still.

An ear-grinding growl rippled through the air, so dark and terrible it made the princess want to curl up into a ball and cry. But she forced herself not to shiver a single finger. She remembered what her mother had taught her about hiding during hunts: become one with nature – still as the mountain and calm like the stream.

 _THUD, THUD, THUD..._

The boulder itself rattled, and Marinette rattled with it. She held her breath and tried to will her heart to a steadier pace. What if the dragon could sense fear, or the heated rush of blood within a living body? No point in dwelling on it now.

Something massive and scaly, glistening like iridescent black-gold, poked out beside her.

The nostrils were as big as Marinette's head, and she watched with white-faced awe as the snout shifted this way and that. Its leathery lips pulled upwards, revealing long, spearhead-like teeth. Marinette could see her reflection in them.

The dragon sniffed and then snorted roughly, blowing hot, stinking air into the princess's face.

She squeezed her teary eyes shut, trying not to gag. _Ancestors, help me – what was I thinking?!_

She heard a throaty huff, and then she felt cool air kiss her cheeks.

Marinette opened her eyes. The dragon was gone. Or, at the very least, it had moved away.

But the princess didn't dare sigh with relief or sag against the boulder. Keeping her movements and steps quiet, Marinette inched herself around and peeked out from behind the rock.

The dragon was not as big as she imagined. In fact, it was quite thin and youthful, probably no more than few decades old. But it was no less majestic: broad, bat-like wings that folded nicely against its back, an elegant head bearing a crown of black horns, and four enormous claws with talons that dug themselves into the ground as it walked.

But as it slithered towards its cave, Marinette saw it was hopping only on three legs. The fourth held up something black and fleshy in its grip: a dead animal, burnt to a crisp. Judging by the long legs and antlers, it was probably a deer or an elk.

The dragon was returning from a hunt, and now it was going to curl up and relax inside the safety of its home.

 _How in heaven's name am I going to be able to look for Bridgette in there without being seen?_ Marinette thought with a hard swallow.

She could wait until the dragon left again, but that could take all day and night, and Bridgette probably didn't have that time.

She could cause a distraction, like she did back at Castle Dupain-Cheng, and then sneak inside. But then the dragon would come back, and Marinette's only escape would be blocked.

That only left one option: sneak inside now and hope for the best.

It wasn't much of a plan – as a matter of fact, it was the stupidest plan ever – but what other choice did Marinette have?

The young princess gripped her bow and pulled out an arrow. Then, with a furrowed brow, she tiptoed out of her hiding place and towards the monstrous cave.

* * *

The bones of Bridgette's fellow inmates rattled against the cage.

 _It's coming_ , they seemed to say. _It's coming!_

The princess groaned as she heaved herself up into a sitting position. She peered through the makeshift fence of large rib bones, mostly likely taken from the skeleton of a giant. They had been planted deep into the ground to form a ring of pillars that Bridgette couldn't squeeze through. The top of the cage was open, but the princess couldn't climb it because the bones were too big, too smooth and too slippery. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get a good enough grip on them.

So Bridgette would either sit or pace around, with nothing to keep her company except the skeletons in her cage... and her guilt.

She still remembered how she, Sir Brudis and their company of knights had been so easily quelled by the dragon. Most of the men had sacrificed themselves to give their princess time to escape. Bridgette had tried to squirm desperately out of Brudis's thick arms as he hauled her away. She could still hear the dying screams of her companions.

If Bridgette had listened to the Bourgeois knight and retreated, maybe they would both be back at Castle Dupain-Cheng, safe and sound and ready to fight another day. Instead, she had torn away from Brudis and charged back into the cave to save anyone that may have survived.

It was a foolish and futile effort.

Because of her arrogance, Bridgette had allowed herself be captured. Because of her arrogance, Brudis had been blown off the mountain by a burst of flame. Because of her arrogance, Dupain-Cheng was doomed.

A warrior trapped behind enemy lines might as well take her own life and keep what honour she had left. Then the dragon wouldn't be able to use her as a hostage.

But every time she considered impaling herself with a bone shard, Bridgette would think about Marinette. Then she would eye the beaded charm around her wrist.

 _I have every intention of coming back, even if I have to crawl the whole way._

Bridgette knew that if she killed herself, Marinette would never forgive her. So she would sit quietly in her cage and wait. Wait for what, she didn't know – a miracle, perhaps?

There was barely any daylight seeping through the roof of the immense cave, but Bridgette could see her _gracious_ host easily enough as it stomped towards her from one of the nearby tunnels. Dragons weren't that hard to notice.

Bridgette glared into its monstrous red eyes. It glared back with just as much contempt.

Then, the dragon lifted its clutched claw over the cage and dropped something unceremoniously in front of the princess.

Bridgette frowned repulsively at the carcass of charred antlers and overcooked meat. Then she shot a bold look up at the dragon again. "Are you expecting a "thank you" or something?" she snapped. "Well, you'll forgive me if I'm not in a thanking mood."

She knew the dragon could understand her, but it obviously didn't care about what she wanted. The feeling was mutual.

Even though it couldn't speak human, the message in the dragon's narrowed slits was obvious: _Eat or be eaten_.

But Bridgette wasn't fazed. She was the future queen of Dupain-Cheng – she would bow to no one except the ones she loved. "You'll never get what you want!" she stated hotly. "So why don't you spare yourself the humiliation and get it over with, you over-grown worm?!"

 _SNAP!_

Bridgette fell back as the dragon's jaws slammed together in her face. The sound of its insulted snarl reverberated off the bone cage, and the princess's blood turned to ice at the sight of those teeth dripping with acid.

Once again, her arrogance had gotten the better of her. _When am I going to learn to shut up?_

Satisfied with her reaction, the dragon blew smoke out of its nostrils and then strutted away proudly into one of the other tunnels. Bridgette watched it leave until its long, jagged tail vanished into the shadows.

Then she was alone again... and now she had a new friend.

With a defeated yell of anger, Bridgette slammed a fist into the dirt. She hated feeling so helpless. She hated being locked up like a little bird.

She and Marinette had found an injured lark once, when they were both quite young. They had nursed it back to health. But when it was time for the lark to take flight, Bridgette had insisted they keep it as a pet.

Marinette, however, always had a special connection with animals. She had said that the lark wanted to fly back home to its family. Bridgette, in her selfishness, placed the twittering bird into a beautiful cage, stating that _they_ were its family now. Marinette had burst into tears and didn't speak to Bridgette for days.

The lark had stopped singing. It barely touched anything Bridgette fed it. Then one night, the elder princess saw what her little sister had seen: a creature born to fly confined into a prison where it could never spread its wings again. The realization had struck Bridgette hard, and she felt so ashamed of her wickedness.

The following morning, Bridgette had brought the bird cage out into the gardens where Marinette was playing. To the little princess's delight, her sister let the lark free and they both watched as it fluttered away happily into the sky.

Now, Bridgette felt like exactly like the lark had felt: trapped and useless; cut off from all she loved; deprived of her true nature.

She couldn't give up hope, but it was slowly being sucked out of her like water through a reed. Eventually, she would dry up.

Something moved in the shadows.

Bridgette immediately tensed and scrambled back just as a streak of red flashed before her in the faint daylight.

But it wasn't the angry red eyes of the dragon that approached the cage.

It was a red-hooded figure with a bow in her delicate hand. She put a finger to her lips with a soft "Shh."

Wait a minute... Were those black polka-dots on that cloak?

There was only one person in the world Bridgette knew with a cloak like that. " _Mari_?!" she breathed with shock. "What are you doing here?!"

The figure peered in through the boney bars at the startled princess with a relieved smile. Bridgette almost didn't recognize her with all that filth.

"I would've thought that'd be obvious," Princess Marinette said, "seeing as how I'm the one sneaking around and you're the one trapped in cage."

Bridgette let out a soft laugh, scrambled upward, and reached for her younger sister through the bones. They grasped each other's arms tightly. It was as close to a hug as they could get.

"As much as I wish you weren't here right now," Bridgette said, "I'm still happy to see you."

"Me too." Her sister pulled away with a bold nod. "Now sit tight – I'll get you out of there."

Bridgette glanced around and shrugged. "Take your time – I'm not going anywhere."

Marinette rolled her eyes and grabbed onto the lower part of a bone with both hands. Her face scrunched up as she tried to heave it out of the ground. When that didn't work, Marinette tried to wiggle it loose. Still nothing.

Bridgette shook her head sadly. "You think I didn't already try that? These bones were dug in with _dragon_ strength."

Marinette grunted and gave up on the pulling idea. "Trying to smash them or knock them over would be a bad idea too," she panted, glancing in the direction of the tunnel where the dragon had slithered to. Looking back, Marinette's eyes fell to the ground. "Maybe I can dig you a way out," she suggested.

"With what – your hands? There's no time!" Bridgette whispered frantically. "Mari, listen – just forget about me. You've got leave before the dragon comes back!"

Marinette's eyes hardened at her sister. "I didn't come all this way to watch you die, Bridge," she stated softly as she checked the bases of the bones again. "There has to be a way..." Her voice trailed off, and Bridgette caught a familiar gleam in her sister's eyes.

It was the "I think I got it, but you're not going to like it" gleam.

It made Bridgette all the more worried. "Marinette," she murmured, "what are you thinking?"

Her sister grinned up at her. "I'm thinking... what we need is a bit of that dragon strength."

* * *

A moment later, Bridgette's calls echoed throughout the great cave: "Dragon?! Did you hear me? I said, I surrender! You win! I'll do whatever you want!"

She repeated her words a few more times before waiting for a reply – a growl, a thump, anything.

No sound came from the tunnel.

Sighing, Bridgette looked over to a giant's skull, behind which Marinette was peeking out at her.

The elder princess threw her arms in the air.

Marinette scowled at her. "Think of something!" she mouthed.

Bridgette pursed her lips together in frustration and paced around. This wasn't going to work. The dragon didn't need to bother with the princess right now. It was probably lying all snug and cozy inside its hovel like the proud, pampered lizard it...

Bridgette's eyebrows shot up. Of course!

She pressed her face between two bones of the cage and called out, "Suit yourself, you hot-headed snake! But you know... _someone's_ eventually going to come and rescue me! And when they do, they're going to chop off your fat head and feed your meaty eyeballs to the dogs!"

There was a deep rumble coming down from the tunnel. The dragon had heard her.

Bridgette grinned and winked over at Marinette. "And that's not all!" she yelled in an overdramatic tone. "I've also heard that dragon meat is a delicacy in some parts of the realm! Then again, you're nothing but bones and scales – _hardly_ very appetizing!"

A low growl now, angry and annoyed. Then, the distant sound of hard stomps.

 _By the ancestors, it's working!_ Bridgette thought as she called again, "Speaking of scales, did you know they make such wonderful jewelry? I've seen humans wearing necklaces and bracelets made _entirely_ of dragon scales! Oh, and don't get me started on the horns! My great-grandfather, Emperor Shan... He adorned his entire throne with the horns of the twenty dragons he killed! Or was it twenty-five? I can't remember..."

Ruby-red eyes emerged from the darkness, glowing with hate. Then the golden face of the dragon appeared, its teeth bared at the loud-mouthed princess.

Bridgette prayed Marinette was hiding now as she narrowed her bluebell eyes at her captor. "Is that why you always take the bones of every creature you kill?" she asked coolly. "Because we humans took something precious from you?" She hummed. "I guess we're more alike than we both care to admit."

The beast snarled threateningly at that remark.

 _WHIZZ!_

Bridgette saw the red arrow streak before she saw it stick into the dragon's right eye.

The winged monster roared towards the ceiling, forcing Bridgette to cover her ears. Then the dragon's head flung this way and that to try and shake the arrow out.

"Bridge, _get down_!"

The elder princess saw it coming before Marinette's shout reached her. She flung herself onto her stomach just as a great, bone-snapping crash exploded around her.

Some of the broken pieces landed on top of her. Thankfully, bones were hollow, so Bridgette was able to shove them off without too much trouble.

The dragon's mouth was bleeding from colliding with the cage, and it only made the beast angrier. It spewed fire into the air, the heat wave stinging Bridgette's face. There was also blood tearing down from the dragon's wounded eye, from which Marinette's arrow protruded.

"RUN!" the red-cloaked princess shouted.

Bridgette burst from the shattered bone cage and ran as quick as a deer.

Meanwhile, the dragon swerved and stomped around to try and find its attacker.

Marinette had already run out from behind the giant's skull, but she paused and waited for her sister to catch up before speeding towards the cave entrance with her.

All the while, the cave exploded with flaming fury.


	17. Catching Fire: Fire in the Hole

**CATCHING FIRE**

 _ **Chapter 5:**_

 _ **Fire in the Hole**_

 _In the kingdom of Dupain-Cheng, it is common belief that a warrior sees who he or she truly is by gazing at their reflection in their sword._

 _For in that moment of battle, when death feels like a brush of wind on the back of your neck, a warrior left standing may find themselves overwhelmed by fear, shame and guilt._

 _But sometimes, a warrior's greatest enemy lies not on the battlefield... but deep within themselves._

 _The sword is more than just a weapon – it is a symbol of truth and rumination._

 _So if a warrior looks upon the blade and faces himself or herself – and they do not look away from what they see – that warrior can face even the most feared of enemies._

 _The moral of this belief is that no one – whether of royal or common birth – can fight for what they love if they do not learn to love themselves, flaws and all._

 _As narcissistic as that sounds, it's true._

 _How can you fight for hope if you have no hope of fighting?_

* * *

There was no sun to behold in the grey sky, yet it blinded Marinette all the same as she and Bridgette emerged from the dragon's cave.

Fire erupted behind them like the devil's cauldron. A deafening roar cut through stone and sky.

Once again, Marinette felt that familiar knot of terror tightening inside her chest. For a brief moment, she couldn't think of anything but that horrible sound.

Then she felt a firm hand grasp her shoulder, and that knot unfurled.

"Down!" she heard Bridgette yell.

The young princess dove hard onto her front just as something massive came barrelling right over her. Teeth snapped in the air, the sound as loud and hard as clashing boulders, and Marinette cringed.

That dragon would have snatched her up in one bite if Bridgette hadn't given the warning.

Marinette couldn't stop herself from shivering. What was she thinking of coming here?! She was no dragon-slayer, she was a princess! She had been trained to fight warriors and small creatures, not a monstrous, fire-breathing lizard that could kill you in one fell swoop!

And now, Marinette had just made it angry.

She looked over into Bridgette's eyes – the same twin sapphires as her own; unbreakable and unwilling to give up.

Marinette's brow furrowed with determination. "Where's your sword?" she panted.

Bridgette pointed to where the broken cannon lay. "I dropped it somewhere there when the dragon took me."

"Get it," the younger blunette ordered as she rose to her feet and drew an arrow. "I'll see if I can get its attention."

Bridgette huffed and stood up. "That shouldn't be so hard," she said with a teasing grin.

The hard flapping of wings and another piercing roar made them both look up at the sky. The dragon was circling around!

"Go!" Marinette yelled.

As Bridgette ran, the young blunette pointed her arrow at the large shadow that was soaring down towards her.

Holding her breath, Marinette aimed for the dragon's good eye.

The arrow flew.

But the dragon's head swerved and the arrow skidded across its forehead. The beast snarled and extended one of its front claws toward the princess.

"Shit!" Marinette flung herself to the side.

But she was still too late. The giant talons managed to grab her by her red cloak.

Marinette gasped as she was yanked backwards by the neck and dragged along the rocks. She tried to scream, but her windpipe was blocked. The clasp of the cloak dug so hard into Marinette's throat that she couldn't grasp it so as to free herself. The ground shrunk away as the dragon lifted her up into the air.

"NO!"

A gleam of silver sliced into one of the dragon's claws, and Marinette fell with a hard thud.

Coughing and caressing her stinging throat, the young princess looked up to see the shrieking dragon flapping back up into the sky. Blood sprayed upon Marinette's face from the open wound in the creature's foot.

Wasting no time, Marinette recovered her bow from where it had fallen and nocked another arrow.

At the same time, her sister rushed to her side, her golden-handled sword pointed at the dragon and her face contorted with anger.

"You will not take my sister too, you monster!" Bridgette shouted.

The dragon roared in response and took off, disappearing into the smoky sky.

"Great," Marinette groaned as she and her sister glanced around. "Now you've hurt its feelings. Again."

"Oh, I'm going to hurt _more_ than just its feelings. Believe me!"

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, but you might want to... DUCK!"

Both sisters threw themselves out of the way of the gleaming fangs that appeared from behind them.

Instead of humans, the dragon chomped down on rock and dirt. Shaking its head of the filthy plume, it hovered back up for another dive.

Bridgette leapt back to her feet, her eyes wide. "I... don't think it wants to take either of us alive anymore," she said awkwardly.

Marinette whirled on her. "Gosh, I wonder why!"

Another roar sounded from above. This time, however, Marinette caught a familiar orange glow from the ashy clouds.

The young princess gasped as a blazing inferno swept all over the hill and sped towards the two sisters.

Everything happened so fast.

Bridgette shielded her eyes from the sudden, flaring light. At the same time, Marinette reached blindly for her sister and managed to grab her by the arm. Then she was pulling both of them over the edge of the hill just as she felt the fire singeing her hair and cheeks.

Only then did Marinette realize that she was falling. _Uh-oh..._

The two princesses screamed as they slid down the steep, ashy slope toward the narrow stretch of land below.

The world spun. Ash blew up into Marinette's eyes, nose and mouth. Her head pounded.

Then, the ground broke her fall.

Her arms and back groaned with disapproval as Marinette rolled over. She heard Bridgette's grumbling not far from her.

"Ugh... thanks," the elder princess winced.

Marinette stifled a laugh, unsure whether or not her sister was being sarcastic. But she answered anyway, "No problem."

An infuriated roar snapped their heads up.

Marinette spotted her bow off to the side and scrambled over to pick it up. Bridgette did the same with her sword, and she rose up faster as the dragon's silhouette appeared ahead of them.

"Find cover!" Bridgette cried, trying to herd Marinette behind her while keeping her blade in front.

Marinette knew there was no time to draw another arrow. But neither would she leave her sister out in the open. _If we go down, we go down together._

Both princesses stood their ground as the dragon swooped into the narrow trench.

At that moment, Bridgette rushed forward with her sword in both hands and shouted, "For the kingdom!"

"Bridge, _no_!" Marinette cried.

This time, everything seemed to slow down.

Bridgette danced towards the dragon with a valiant yell.

At the same time, a column of fire flew from the dragon's mouth, forcing Marinette to dive and roll away. She could feel the heat blast her along her middle, but her leathers protected her.

As she curled herself against the ground, Marinette heard the sound of metal ripping into flesh.

Then she winced from the dragon's piercing shriek.

Then... there was a bone-rattling crash.

The ground beneath Marinette rumbled. Stones and bits of obsidian flew everywhere. One struck the young princess on the side of her forehead, leaving a thin cut in its wake. Others rained down on her back, and Marinette thought she was being buried alive.

Then, it stopped.

The air was dry with smoke and dust. Marinette coughed and slowly crawled out of the small mound of rocks. She was stiff and had a few cuts here and there, but no broken bones.

To her shock, the dragon was lying several feet away, motionless upon the stones. A long trail of black dirt lay where it had skidded along the ground before slamming to a stop. One of its wings had been sliced open right down the middle, and now the whole thing flayed in the faint wind like two bloody, leather strips.

Marinette's mouth hung open for a minute. "Bridgette..." she breathed. "You did it! You killed it!" She turned around to smile broadly at her sister.

It dropped as soon as she saw the elder princess.

Bridgette was crawling along the ground, crying out in great pain. Her sword had fallen out of her reach and she was trying to retrieve it. The ends of Bridgette's long hair tails were blackened, but the worst was that one of her legs – boot and all – was smoking and crinkling with bits of flame.

Marinette insides turned hollow. " _Bridgette!_ " She ran over and fell to her sister's side, batting furiously at her leg before it could completely catch fire.

Bridgette moaned as she allowed herself to be rolled onto her back. Her face was covered in soot. "The... The dragon..." she wheezed before letting out a heavy cough.

Marinette sighed heavily and unsheathed her knife. "What were you thinking?!" she hissed as she cut Bridgette's pant leg open, trying not to wince from the sight of red, blistered skin. "You are _damn_ lucky I brought one of Jasminda's potions..."

A gloved hand grasped her wrist. "No... Mari... the _dragon_..." Bridgette groaned, her pain-stricken eyes glancing past her sister.

Marinette heard the hiss-like snarl behind her, and she snapped around.

The dragon was heaving itself back up, its crippled wing dragging along the dirt and its wounded claw hiked up. Then it turned to look over at Marinette and Bridgette with its single, hateful red eye.

Yeah, it was pretty pissed.

Marinette stood and wrapped her arms around Bridgette's middle as the dragon tried to turn around to face them. The young princess dragged her sister behind a pile of boulders. Once Bridgette was lying safety against one, Marinette peeked out at the dragon.

It was still struggling to get up, but it could still walk on three legs. It wouldn't be long before it would reach the princesses and roast them like a pair of chickens on a spit.

Looking the other way, Marinette spotted Bridgette's sword in the dirt ahead. She eyed her bow for a moment... and then set it down next to Bridgette, along with her quiver. Facing the dragon head on was the only way to take it down. Her sister had proved that, even though she had paid a hefty price for a direct hit.

But how was Marinette going to kill it without getting killed herself?

Suddenly, she remembered what Master Fu had told her about dragons: _they believe they are invincible._

Marinette quickly glanced down the other way of the narrow chasm. On the other side, just a little bit away, the ashy slope connected with the bottom of the mountain. And in that rocky wall was a small gap.

Big enough for a human to fit through easily... but not quite big enough for a dragon.

The princess's mouth curled upward.

She sank down in front of her sister. "Stay put," she whispered with that unbroken determination she had from before. "I'll be right back."

Bridgette's face softened as she stared into her little sister's eyes. She shook her head. "Mari..."

"Don't worry," Marinette said as she flashed her lucky charm. "I have every intention of coming back."

And before Bridgette could say another word, Marinette pulled out of her sister's grasp and rushed out into the open chasm.

She knew the dragon was watching her. She knew it was growling at her as she scooped up her sister's sword and shot a heated glare at the beast.

"Did you miss me?" Marinette cooed with a sneer.

The dragon breathed fire again, but Marinette danced out of the way.

She laughed and spread out her arms. "If you want me," she called, "come and get me yourself, you coward!"

"Marinette!" she heard Bridgette call frantically.

But the younger princess paid her no heed. She only began to step back as the dragon came hopping towards her. Then Marinette stepped faster, and faster...

Finally, she spun around and ran, aiming straight for the mountain crevice. Her red and black-spotted cloak blew out behind her like a ribbon.

The dragon stomped after the little princess, snapping its flaming jaws in anticipation.

She heard Bridgette calling for her again.

Marinette ran onward, her heart pounding. She kept glancing behind her to make sure the dragon was still following her.

Good news: it was _right_ behind her!

Gritting her teeth, Marinette ran harder.

Until at last, she leapt through the open gap and emerged into a small nook in the mountain. She stopped and looked around, panting heavily.

There was nowhere else to go. She was trapped!

No matter.

Marinette turned around, her hair whipping her face, and watched undeterred as the dragon's mighty form came barreling into the crevice.

She flattened herself against the wall as the monster squeezed its head through and stretched towards her, fangs dripping with hunger.

Then Marinette heard the sound she had been waiting for: the hard scraping of scales against rock.

The dragon snapped at the princess several times, but it only managed to get a few inches closer. After that, the mountain wall seemed to be constricting its throat, forbidding the beast from going any further.

The dragon's good red eye widened.

Marinette heard the slashing of claws against rock from the other side. The monster was trying to pull itself out!

But no matter how hard it tried, the dragon wouldn't budge. Infuriated, it roared in Marinette's face.

She stood her ground and ignored the pain in her ears. The dragon's breath was so hot she thought her skin would peel off. She swore she saw a glowing spark emit from within the beast's mouth, but no fire ignited.

Now there was a different kind of terror in the dragon's good eye; the kind that most predators didn't feel at all.

Marinette grinned slyly. "You didn't see _that_ coming, did you?" she huffed.

With Bridgette's sword in hand, Marinette side-stepped out of the way and raised the blade high above her head.

The dragon's blood-curdling shriek mixed with the princess's mighty yell.

The sword came down.

Marinette felt it go cleanly through. Steaming red squirted out and stained her hands.

The horned-encrusted head fell first. Then the rest of the enormous, winged body sank to the ground.

All was quiet.

Then, like magic, the smoky sky cleared, revealing streaks of golden sunlight.

And in the blares of sparkling light, Marinette stared down at her reflection in the blood-covered sword.

That girl stared back at her with relief, sadness, confusion and thrill.

 _How's_ that _for an inventive performance, Chloe?_ Marinette thought with a soft smirk.

She had just killed a dragon. _She_ – the second-born daughter with nothing to her name but the title of "princess". Marinette immediately knew what this heroic act had now bestowed on her:

Dupain-Cheng would sing songs of her glory for years to come. Messengers would scatter throughout the realm baring tales of the dragon's death. Many a prince and nobleman's son would undoubtedly see fit to acquire such a courageous heroine for a bride.

But as Marinette stared at herself in the blade, she realized with a confident sigh that she didn't want any of it. No songs or glory or offer of marriage would turn her from becoming the girl she wanted to be; the girl she still was.

She was not Princess Marinette Dragonslayer, nor was she the Hero of Dupain-Cheng.

She was just... Marinette, the girl who saved her sister.

And speaking of whom...

"Bridge?" Marinette called as loud as she could over the dragon's carcass. "Bridgette!"

There was a moment of silence before she heard, "Mari?!"

Smiling, the young princess climbed onto the dragon's spiny back and stood up at the top so she could see.

Sure enough, Bridgette was standing up with all her might on her good leg and limping towards the fallen dragon. Her eyes lit up at the sight of her little sister. "Mari!" she gasped. It sounded more like a laugh than anything else.

Marinette laughed with her as she jogged down the dragon's back and flew into her sister's outstretched arms.

They both wrecked of soot, blood and burnt hair... but neither of them cared.

Bridgette just breathed into her sister's hair, "Let's wait a few years before we do something like this again."

Marinette grinned from ear to ear. "Deal," she sighed. "I'm just glad you're all right."

They pulled apart, and Bridgette's look was almost incredulous. "If by "all right", you mean half-cooked with a burning leg... then yeah, I'm swell." She frowned down at her leg. "Or... swell _ing_ , I should say."

Marinette rolled her eyes. Some things never changed, even after fighting a dragon. "Come on," she said as she hauled Bridgette's arm back over her shoulders. "Let's get that thing treated and wrapped up. Then..."

"We go home," Bridgette finished for her, "and we're opening that vintage bottle we've been saving. No exceptions."

Marinette nodded with a chuckle. "You read my mind."

Bridgette's eyebrow rose up. "How do you know _you_ didn't read _my_ mind?"

"Excuse me? Who rescued who from a vicious dragon?"

"I brought it down first."

"I _killed_ it!"

"With _my_ help!"

The two sisters stared aghast at one another... and then they burst into a fit of raucous laughter.

"If only Mother could see us now," Bridgette snorted.

Marinette sighed as they both sat down by the boulders to rest and recover. "Is this how it's always going to be between us?" she asked. "Fighting over how much credit we get for everything we do together?"

Bridgette hummed. "We're sisters, and royal ones at that," she replied with a smile. "I think that's answer enough."

Marinette snorted as she carefully began pulling off the shreds of clothing away from Bridgette's thickening burns.

Then, Bridgette's hand found hers, and Marinette looked up.

"But you're right," the elder princess murmured. "You _did_ save my life, Mari. You're the real hero today, not me. I don't know how I can thank you for that."

Marinette saw a hint of sadness and regret in her sister's eyes. She knew that Bridgette was thinking about Sir Brudis and the other knights who had given their lives to protect her when she herself couldn't protect them.

Marinette rubbed Bridgette's shoulder tenderly. "You're a hero too, you know," she said reassuringly. "I mean it. You saved my life a couple times, and I never would have killed that thing if you hadn't crippled it." She smiled warmly. "Besides, not everyone is brave enough to talk mean to a dragon, and you were _way_ beyond nasty back in that cave."

Bridgette smirked. "Well, some princesses have to learn how to bite back," she remarked. "Remember that when the wolves start circling."

"Wolves?"

" _Princes_ ," Bridgette clarified. "You're going to be the famous one now, remember?"

Marinette had to laugh. "I just fought a dragon, Bridge," she whined as she pulled out her salve and bandages from her travel pouch. "Can we save the talk about men _after_ we get back to the castle?"

"Baby."

"Love you too."

"Mari," Bridgette asked while her sister applied the healing potion to her burns. "Out of curiosity, how exactly are we going to lug the dragon's head all the way back home?"

Marinette paused in her work, and then giggled. "I... um... I don't know," she admitted. "I didn't actually think I'd get this far."

The chasm filled once more with their un-ladylike chortling.


	18. Catching Fire: Singled Out

**CATCHING FIRE**

 _ **Chapter 6:**_

 _ **Singled Out**_

 _As Marinette had expected, the news of her victory over the dragon spread like wildfire over the kingdom the moment she and Bridgette returned to the capital._

 _It became quite the renowned tale: how a young princess ventured out alone to rescue her beloved sister from the dragon's claws, and how the two of them together brought down the beast once and for all._

 _But little did Marinette know that the homecoming she was about to receive was not the end of her story, but the beginning._

 _And it began with a ring..._

* * *

Marinette stared absent-mindedly into the dragon's good red eye.

Then, the Dupain-Cheng guards covered the creature's head with a large white cloth before wheeling it out of the throne room on a cart.

As she watched it leave, Marinette relaxed her shoulders with a sigh.

It was over. The doom upon her home was vanquished. The sky would clear again, the sun would shine, and children would laugh and play in the city. No soul would ever have to gaze up at the sky with fear.

"We did it," Bridgette said, as though reading her sister's thoughts.

Thanks to the palace healers, her leg was recovering well. She still had to hobble around on a crutch to relieve the pressure, but that never stopped the heir of Dupain-Cheng.

Marinette turned to Bridgette with a proud smile and took her hand. The dragon-burnt leathers were gone and the red and black-spotted cloak was back in her chambers, ready to be mended with her killer loom skills. Now Marinette was back to being a princess. Her bright, shoulder-less, lavender dress curled down towards the ground in swirly tulle, her skin was once again flawless save for the soft freckles on her face, and her midnight-blue hair reflected the brilliant light of the chandeliers.

It was always after one of her gruelling adventures outside the castle when Marinette felt comfortable in tulle and soft silk.

Bridgette was just as beautiful, even with the crutch. Her dress was the colour of a brilliant, orange sunset... or dragon fire. Marinette considered it true courage for her sister to wear a colour like that after everything she had been through.

"We did," Marinette murmured softly just as she caught her parents staring at her from their thrones.

When the two princesses had arrived back at the castle with the dragon's head in tow, they hadn't reached the main gate before King Thomas and Queen Sabine came barrelling towards them. Despite the horror of their attire, Marinette and Bridgette were overwhelmed by tearful smiles and warm embraces.

The reprimanding was no doubt next in line.

Marinette stepped forward dutifully and sank to her knees before the royal dais, bowing her head. Offside, King Andre of Bourgeois and Princess Chloe stood by with anticipating looks, along with most of the other nobles in the court.

"Mother, Father," Marinette began with an emotionless tone, "I will not apologize for my actions, or why I performed them..." She sighed with resignation. "... but I will accept whatever punishment you see fit to give me."

The young princess could feel her parents' sharp gazes on her, and she almost shivered. This wasn't the first time she had disobeyed them – nor would it be the last – but Marinette _had_ crossed a very thin line by sneaking out like a criminal and galloping off into the most dangerous place in her kingdom without protection. Marinette wondered now if she would ever see the light of day again.

Delicate footsteps descended from the dais... and a gentle hand lifted Marinette's chin.

Queen Sabine stared with absolute pride into her youngest daughter's perplexed eyes. "Most heroes seek glory and honour upon returning home," she said, "but here you come before your family asking only for forgiveness?" She took both of Marinette's hands in hers and helped her back to her feet. Then the queen smiled. "Marinette, there is nothing to forgive. Yes, while I'm still... _displeased_ that you ran off on your own, I'm just eternally grateful that I have both of my daughters back."

King Thomas rose from his throne, his moustache curling up as he smiled. "And if anything, you did what you did out of love," he pointed out with a nod to Bridgette. "Not only that, but you've saved _two_ kingdoms from the dragon's wrath! We couldn't be more proud of you, Marinette."

The young blunette's cheeks warmed with bright-pink.

"And _I_ couldn't be more grateful for you, Your Highness," King Andre said with a broad-chinned grin as he strode towards the neighboring royal family. He bowed his head with respect at Marinette. "My people and I owe you a great debt. It seems we've gained a proper hero after all."

Marinette heard Bridgette snort, and while she couldn't agree more with her sister, she displayed a thankful nod to the white-haired king. "With all due respect, Your Majesty," she said kindly, "you don't owe me or my kingdom anything."

"On the contrary," Princess Chloe's sharp voice rang throughout the chamber, making Marinette's temples throb, "we owe you more than we can give. But I may have a solution that might benefit _both_ our kingdoms."

The Bourgeois blonde strutted oh-so-gracefully into the centre of the throne room, where all could see her.

Marinette and Bridgette exchanged a weary glance that said, _What is she up to now?_

"We have before us," Chloe declared with a smile Marinette found quite unnerving, "a heroine who is deserving of happiness and love." She turned to Marinette and added with glistening, blue eyes, "Someone I would be proud to call "sister"."

The circle of nobles chattered amongst each other excitedly.

But Marinette's mouth dropped to the floor. _Wait... what?_

"Excuse me?" Bridgette asked coldly. "What _exactly_ are you suggesting, Chloe?"

The golden princess merely grinned and called towards the guards at the door, "Bring him in."

As one, the two men pulled the great coppery doors wide open, and in the centre of the threshold stood a young man dressed in the blue and silver fashion of King Andre's family.

He was as charming as any prince Marinette had ever read about in her storybooks: tall, thin and sharp-looking with dark brown hair pulled behind his head and brown eyes that were so deep you could swim in them. A bit of that hair lay on a tiny strip on his chin – a common physical feature amongst the people of Bourgeois.

Marinette had to admit he was... attractive. But Chloe's startling word – "sister" – still rang in her ears, and it made the young man's appearance all the more worrisome.

Chloe beckoned him forward, and he strode like a true gentleman into the throne room, nodding to all the surrounding nobles. No smiles.

But then he arrived at his sister's side, and his eyes widened as soon as he laid them upon Marinette. His mouth parted slightly and he let out something that sounded like, "Oh..."

Meanwhile, Marinette's first thought was, _Oh no._

"Your Majesties," Chloe announced, "lords and ladies of the court, allow me the pleasure of introducing my dear younger brother: His Royal Highness Prince Theobard of Bourgeois."

Marinette squinted. The boy looked nothing like his father, or his sister for that matter. _Maybe he takes after his mother, thank the heavens._

But that didn't make her feel any better as Chloe's "dear younger brother" stepped up to Marinette. Where once was confidence and coolness, there was now timidity upon his bony face. He couldn't stop looking the blunette up and down, which made her all the more apprehensive.

"Princess Marinette..." Prince Theobard said breathlessly. He cleared his throat and began again, "I always thought the tales of your beauty were over-exaggerative, but to see you now... and to learn that you slew that monstrous dragon..." He let out an awkward chuckle before giving Marinette the look of a greedy merchant. "I don't believe I have ever met anyone like you before, my princess. It is an honour to be in your presence."

Marinette almost forgot to curtsy, until Bridgette nudged her in the side. "The... The honour is mine... Prince Theobard," the young blunette stuttered hurriedly.

The young prince seemed to find that compliment amusing. "Please, call me Theo." He gently picked up Marinette's hand in his and planted a deep, long kiss on it before adding, "I prefer it."

Marinette felt her arm crawl and her spine tingle. She had young men kiss her hand many times at many social gatherings, so why did _this_ one make her feel like she wanted to jump out of her skin?

Chloe answered that question for her.

"I promised my brother I would one day find him a worthy princess to be his bride," she told the entire court before turning to Marinette with a sour-sweet smile. "And now I have."

Marinette tried to swallow down the contempt rising in her throat.

Now there was more excitement going on in the throne room. Ladies gasped with excited squeals, and men grinned with approval. Marinette's parents were eying each other with astonishment and concern. Bridgette looked like she had just been dealt with a great insult due to the contorted, gaping-mouthed look she shot at Chloe.

The golden-haired princess gave her brother a low nod, and then Theo turned back around to face the King and Queen of Dupain-Cheng.

"With your blessing, Your Majesties," Theo said with a bow, "I wish to take your daughter's hand in marriage. That is..." He glanced sideways at Marinette with red cheeks. "... if she'll have me."

He was asking her parents directly, and not her... as though she were nothing but a prized jewel being given away at an auction.

And the moment Marinette caught Chloe's triumphant smile... she remembered the weird hug the Bourgeois girl had given her the other night.

 _Unless some brave soul comes forward to take up the quest..._

 _The realm needs brave warriors like you._

Chloe knew.

She _knew_ Marinette could go running off to save Bridgette; had practically _coerced_ Marinette into doing it! All so the young blunette could play the part of the conquering hero, win the heart of the neighboring prince, and grant his kingdom the gold it needed to repay its debts.

Marinette squeezed her fingers deadly-hard into her palms, and she couldn't decide who to be angrier at: Chloe for planning such a devious scheme, or herself for not seeing it.

Her father stepped forward, once more in his King Thomas posture. "King Andre," he said almost harshly, "this is quite the surprise, and I assure you that nothing would please me more than to see my daughters happily married one day. But this..." He gave Marinette a protective glance. "This is clearly not an arrangement my Marinette is ready for."

One pouty frown from Chloe made King Andre stiffen before his royal host. "Come now, Thomas my old friend... My son is about your daughter's age, and he's as much of a king as I am. And what woman wouldn't be swooned by a proposal from a handsome prince?"

Now Marinette was struggling to spit something out in her dumbfounded state. "I... I... My king... I... This is... I really..."

"Oh, heavens Father, look at the poor girl – she's as pale as my silk gloves!" Chloe exclaimed. Then she smiled assuredly at Marinette, who saw a glimmer of dark glass in those blue eyes. "All we're offering, Marinette, is a union stronger than any treaty or vow ever spoken; a union that will save our two kingdoms from... further destruction."

Marinette's core slowed to a simmer. _Further destruction? On_ who's _part?_ she wondered uneasily.

"Besides," Chloe added sweetly, "every princess deserves a happy ending, doesn't she, Marinette?"

The young princess of Dupain-Cheng heard the hidden venom in those words. _Every_ princess... and not just her.

Marinette glanced over at Chloe's father, who gave her a faint smile of a man whose hands were tied behind his back. The blunette doubted King Andre would refuse the marriage without his daughter's approval. Chloe practically ran Bourgeois for him, and all of her guards and servants obeyed her without question.

Marinette's heart sank. Was saying "no" really worth the risk of getting on Chloe's bad side and ruining any chance of a peace treaty between their kingdoms?

She remembered what she had told her father only days ago:

 _I won't marry for the sake of lands or wealth or power. I will only marry for love, just like you and Mama did._

Marinette had tried so hard to believe; so hard to think that she wouldn't have to give her heart and her life away like her royal dowry.

She didn't want to give up the hope that she would find love... but what other choice did she have here? A princess always had to put the needs of the kingdom before her own – that was her burden; her curse.

And she would go with it gladly.

"She's right," Marinette said as brightly as she could, causing several astounded faces to look at her. "We _all_ deserve a happy ending; a chance to live in peace... together."

Bridgette looked flustered, her eyes wide with disbelief. King Thomas looked sadder than Queen Sabine.

Marinette only smiled at them all before turning to Theo and saying in her regal voice, "So, yes. I will marry Prince Theo... for the good of all."

* * *

The castle gave in to two nights of celebratory feasting.

And Marinette gave in to two nights of crying in her chambers.

On the third morning, the bells rang loudly and the white royal carriage pulled up at the front gate.

From her window, Marinette could see the tiny figures of people gathering about in the streets of the city below. All of them would be waving to her as she said goodbye, and none of them would be aware of how doing so would leave their young princess so broken.

But what was done was done. Marinette's bags were packed, and she stood ready in her rose-coloured riding jacket, white trousers, and black knee-high boots. The white carriage would take her, Prince Theo and Princess Chloe to Castle Bourgeois, where the royal wedding was to take place. It wouldn't happen for well over a month, but during that time, Marinette would learn to fit in with her new lifestyle as Theo's bride-to-be.

That is, she hoped she would.

Thankfully, she had suggested to Theo earlier that they take a "detour" through the Enchanted Forest down the Troll Road. It was a longer route, but at least Marinette could have one last chance to say goodbye to the mystical woods she would never see again.

Would she ever hunt with her bow and arrows again? Would she ever be allowed to leave the grounds without Theo or an escort of guards? Would she ever be free again?

She bit down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from thinking such things. She had already cried enough.

Unfortunately, Bridgette hadn't complained enough.

"I can't take it anymore, Mari!" the elder princess exclaimed as she paced around in her sister's bedchamber. "You are not a bag of oats being bought and paid for! You shouldn't have to go through with this marriage!"

Marinette sighed and turned away from the window, looking at Bridgette with hard eyes. "We're princesses, Bridge," she said. "Arranged marriages are what we're practically _born_ for. And it's not like I'm marrying Lord Hawkmoth."

Bridgette pinched her lips together. "That's not my point, and you know it," she grumbled. "You think I haven't figured out Chloe's intentions either?"

Marinette looked away bitterly. _Of course_ Bridgette figured it out – she was more observant than a soothsayer.

Her elder sister went up to her with pleading eyes. "You have a life here, Mari," she said more softly this time. "You have dreams for the future. You can't just throw them all away and marry a prince you barely know just because you're afraid of that Bourgeois brat."

"It's not _her_ I'm afraid of," Marinette said bluntly.

Bridgette blinked.

The younger princess let out a deep breath. "If I go back on my word and refuse the marriage, Dupain-Cheng will be disgraced. Not only that, but we'll lose the alliance with the Bourgeois, and you know how short-tempered they can be. We need as many allies as we can get if we're going to last long against that Sorcerer King."

Marinette watched as Bridgette bit her lip and glanced away. She knew her older sister was thinking the same thing.

People were disappearing and villages were being ransacked. Worst of all, the King of Agreste's grim lackeys – the Akuma Guards – were sweeping through the realm in their desperate search for his treasonous stepson, Prince Adrien. Those men didn't care about who they hurt, so long as they fulfilled their master's orders. If there was even the slightest chance that Agreste would go too far and bring the other two kingdoms into a war, then what better way to merge the might of Dupain-Cheng and Bourgeois than a marriage?

Bridgette finally looked back at her sister. Her matching eyes were filled with sadness. "This isn't about allies or alliances, Mari – it's about what _you_ want." She stuffed her crutch under her arm and took both of Marinette's hands in hers. "Father told me about the ring he gave you. You of all people deserve to find true love, and now you're letting that chance slip through your fingers. I just..." She swallowed, and her eyes glistened wet. "I don't want you to live the rest of your life in a cage."

That last word made Marinette think back to when she had found Bridgette in that wretched, bony prison.

Before she knew it, Marinette was hugging her sister tightly.

"Oh, Bridge..." she murmured. "You needn't worry about me anymore. I can more than take care of myself." She pulled away and said with optimism, "Besides, Theo's a gentleman, and much kinder than his sister. He'll... be a good husband."

 _So long as he stops itching for my attention every time I take a breath_ , Marinette added in her head.

Bridgette snorted, her eyes returning back to their usual sharp glamour. "He's _hardly_ good enough for you," she said, "but if I can't change her mind, I don't know who can." And as she embraced her sister once more, the elder princess breathed into her shoulder, "You are the bravest of us all, Marinette. Never forget that... and never forget us."

Marinette grinned, fighting back more tears. "How anyone can forget a sister like you is beyond me," she giggled.

Bridgette giggled with her, but she didn't let go for a long time after that.

* * *

There were more hugs to go around at the front gate, where everyone had gathered to see the young princess and her fiancé off.

Princess Chloe was already waiting impatiently in the white carriage, dressed in a Bourgeois-blue dress and fanning herself from the stifling heat of the summer sun above. Marinette imagined her melting before they got to Castle Bourgeois.

The blunette had never been there before, but she knew that her parents had paid several diplomatic visits there in the past. Soon the vast, empty hallways and glittering golden towers would become her new home, her new life.

Marinette tried not to think about it as much as she embraced her parents.

"I'll see you in a few weeks," she told her mother. "Once you're all in Bourgeois, I can give you a tour."

Queen Sabine smiled, though her cheeks weren't as bright as they normally were. "We're looking forward to it, dear," she said as she stroked her youngest daughter's cheek. "I still can't believe I'm saying goodbye to another daughter so soon. Are you sure about this?"

That was the seventeenth time in three days the queen had asked Marinette that, and the princess gave her the same answer: "I'm sure, Mama." She kissed her on the forehead. "And this isn't goodbye. I love you."

"I love you too. And no matter what happens, we're always here for you."

Marinette nodded before being pulled into her father's monstrous arms.

They both said nothing, but their eyes said everything.

Then, Marinette opened up her brown leather pouch. The initials "DC" were engraved in beautiful, intricate writing on the front.

The young princess reached inside the tiny purse of jewels and picked out the silver ring with the big emerald. She then presented it to her father.

"This belongs to you, Papa," Marinette said, trying not to sound too defeated.

King Thomas smiled and closed her fingers around the ring. "Keep it," he said with that kind twinkle in his greenish-blue eyes. "Who knows? You might find true love waiting for you around the corner."

Marinette almost laughed as she kissed her father's cheek. "Thank you."

Once the final farewells were made, Marinette took Prince Theo's hand and strode towards the carriage with him.

She caught Bridgette's loving nod one last time.

 _I have to keep believing, don't I?_

* * *

The citizens of Dupain-Cheng cheered and waved at the passing carriage. Children tossed flower petals and ribbons into the air. Women dabbed their eyes with handkerchiefs and blew Marinette kisses. Men bowed, smiled and waved while holding their loved ones close.

Despite the aching hole in her heart, Marinette loved her people. Her smiles and waves were for them.

Not for Prince Theo, and certainly not for his nitpicky older sister sitting across from the both of them.

"Smile, Marinette!" Chloe urged with a glorified beam. "You're on the road to true love!"

The young princess of Dupain-Cheng smiled nervously and lowered her hand.

In her lap was her leather pouch. She could almost feel her father's emerald ring inside it, and the feeling gave her a strange boost of courage.

 _True love follows this ring wherever it goes. Keep it close, and it will never lead you astray._

Marinette didn't know if it was magic or not, but she clutched the pouch tightly all the same.

And all that time, she had no idea how true Chloe's words were.

* * *

Cat Noir crouched on the high branches of the trees as he peered over at the carriage coming down the Troll Road.

The whole thing was pearl-white against the backdrop of evergreen, sunshine-gold and earthy-brown. Definitely royal standard.

Cat Noir grinned. _Looks like today's my lucky day_ , he thought as he adjusted himself in his perch.

He counted the number of escorts: one coachman and four soldiers on horses. Not Akuma Guards, judging by their blue and silver uniforms. But Lord Hawkmoth often had convoys deliver him riches and weapons from some of the nobles he "befriended".

It didn't matter who they were. All that mattered to Cat Noir was the valuables they carried, and how much he would be able to get off of them.

As the carriage drew closer, Cat Noir concealed himself in the canopy. But his sharp ears picked up voices from below.

The first was a man: "What do you think of the view, my dear?"

The second was a girl or young woman with a voice like chimes but a tone like a rainy day. "It's lovely. I've never seen this part of the Enchanted Forest before. Have you, Chloe?"

"What difference does it make?" came a sharp, snooty voice – undoubtedly that of a high-ranking princess. "All trees look the same." A pause. "This is taking forever. I told you coming down the Troll Road was a ridiculous idea."

As she continued to complain, Cat Noir rolled his eyes with a snort. _Royals... and they often wonder why they're so easy to rob_.

The black-clad thief crept along the branches with feathery softness and smiled as the entourage approached the nice little trap he had set up earlier down the road. Cat Noir reminded himself to return Nino's hatchet once this heist was over, or the huntsman would never speak to him again.

The moment the coachman ordered the carriage to come to a startling halt, Cat Noir's mouth curled up into a mischievous, feline grin. _Purr-fect._

Now it was time to put the cat amongst the pigeons.

* * *

 _What transpired after this fateful event needs no repeating here._

 _Perhaps it was the power of true love that brought Marinette and the boy called Cat Noir together that day, at a time when both of their lives reached a tipping point._

 _Whatever the cause, their unexpected encounter ultimately changed the course of their destinies forever._

 _Like the dragon's ever-burning flame, the spark of true love was catching fire._

 _And that fire would shine like a beacon of hope across the realm._

– _Signed,_ _ **Lord Nathaniel of Kurtzberg**_

 _Master Bard and Chronicler of Agreste_

 _Official Member of the Queen's Royal Council_

 _Former Member of the Seven Bandits_

* * *

 **MB: YAY! It's all finished!**

 **Thanks for much for all you "IWAFY" readers for sticking around for this three-part prequel. It was loads of fun!**

 **Once more, I do not own _Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir_ , or _Once Upon a Time_. **

**Bug out! :)**


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